III.
Thy nobler Part, which but to name,
In our Sex wou’d be counted Shame,
By Ages frozen grasp possess’d
From their Ice shall be releas’d:
And, sooth’d by my reviving Hand,
In former Warmth and Vigour stand.
All a Lover’s Wish can reach,
For thy Joy my Love shall teach:
And for thy Pleasure shall improve
All that Art can add to Love,
Yet still I love thee without Art,
Ancient Person of my Heart.