When Ruin threaten'd me of late,
With all its ghastly Train;
Some Pow'r, in Pity to my Fate,
Sent bountiful Germain,
Her Soul is mov'd with my Distress,
And kind Compassion shows;
That gen'rous Hand, long us'd to bless,
Quick mitigates my Woes.
Thrice happy Fair! indulgent Heav'n
To Thee was doubly kind:
To others only Hearts are giv'n;
Thy Fortune suits thy Mind.
