Nor dream’d I of what did ensue.
Matilda appear’d in her charms;
Her cheeks with soft blushes did glow:
My bosom was fill’d with alarms,
Nor knew I who wounded me so.
Her shape it is handsome; her air
Excels all the nymphs of the town:
Her eyes may with diamonds compare;
Her locks of the loveliest brown.
She swift from my presence did fly.