Her half-bar’d bosom, panting with desire,
Expos’d, as if to catch the cooling gale;
But more, perhaps, to fan the lover’s fire.
XVII.
Ye dear deceptions! how ye move
The breast to long forgotten love?
Luxurious scenes! how ye excite
The traces of distinct delight!
E’en now around this poor half-frozen heart
170 Agnizing it’s accustom’d smart,