My Dearest, To let you or the world know <br />What Debt of service I do truly ow <br />To your unpattern'd self, were to require <br />A language onely form'd in the desire <br />Of him that writes. It is the common fate, <br />Of greatest duties to evaporate <br />In silent meaning, as we often see <br />Fires by their too much fuel smother'd be: <br />Small Obligations may find vent and speak, <br />When greater the unable debtor break. <br />And such are mine to you, whose favours store, <br />Hath made me poorer then I was before; <br />For I want words and language to declare <br />How strict my Bond or large your bounties are. <br />Since nothing in my desp'rate fortune found, <br />Can payment make, nor yet the summe compound <br />You must lose all, or else of force accept <br />The body of a Bankrupt for your debt. <br />Then Love, your Bond to Execution sue, <br />And take my self, as forfeited to you.<br /><br />Henry King<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-forfeiture/
