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