I was watching for Letters the other Day, and these incorrect and improviso Verses came in my head; I sent ’em to Piozzi.

Gabriel Piozzi: 1793 by George Dance

Postman! whose Visit at my Door
Delight or Care dispenses,
Whose Knock with pangs unfelt before
Alarms my tender Senses;

The pains of Absence thou alone
Canst mitigate or soften,
Yet some Ingratitude I’ll own
By Mortals felt too often:

While sighing for that blissful Hour
When All my Sorrows ended,
No more this Heart shall feel thy pow’r
On those black Lines suspended:

But Comfort in my Piozzi’s Form
His Voice and Air assuming,
Shall snatch me from the threaten’d Storm
To Fields for ever blooming:

No anxious Fears I then shall feel
Nor more mild Heav’n importune;
Save when She runs too fast down hill
To lock the Wheel of Fortune.

Written by Hester Lynch Thrale in December 1762. Thraliana entry dated 8 June 1783.