From the first Pair’s Creation.
The Field is Luna, Mars a Pale,
Within an Orle of Saturn;
Charg’d with two Pellets at the Tail:
Pray take it for a Pattern.
Under-written.
I don’t see your Luna, nor Saturn, nor Mars,
But I see her —— plain, and I see his bare A--se.
From another Place in the same Walks.
Could fairest dear Eliza know how much I love,