Old Man.
My Years alone have froze my Blood;
Youthful Heat in Female Charms,
Glowing in my aged Arms,
Wou'd melt it down once more into a Flood.
Woman.
Women, alas, like Flints, ne'er burn alone;
To make a Virgin know
There's Fire within the Stone,
Some manly Steel must boldly strike the Blow.
Old Man.
Assist me only with your Charms,
You'll find I'm Man, and still am bold;
You'll find I still can strike, tho' old:
I only want your Aid to raise my Arms.
Enter a Youth, who seizes on the young Woman.
Youth.
Who talks of Charms, who talks of Aid?
I bring an Arm
That wants no Charm,
To rouze the Fire that's in a flinty Maid.
Retire, old Age:
——Winter, begone:
Behold the youthful Spring comes gayly on.
Here, here's a Torch to light a Virgin's Fire!
To my Arms, my Love, my Joy;
When Women have what they desire,
They're neither cold nor coy.
[She takes him in her Arms.