Why may not I, as heretofore, receive
Those sweet transporting Joys which none but you can give?——
I find the Flame that set my Soul on Fire
In you was nothing but a loose Desire.
I should have reason’d ere it was too late,
And so prevented my approaching Fate:
My busie Thoughts were all on you bestow’d,
I for my own repose not one allow’d:
So pleas’d was I, whilst in your Lovely Arms,
I thought myself secure from future Harms: