Elizabeth Thomas - The Execration

Enslaved by passions, swelled with pride,
In love with one whom all deride;
A carcase well, yet mind in pain,
Reduced to beg, but beg in vain;
To live reserved and free from blame,
And yet incur an evil fame;
Let this! this be the wretched fate
Of Rosalinda, whom I hate.

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Isn't 'execration' a delightful word, and isn't it a treat to find a whole poem devoted to elegantly cursing someone?