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| THE TRANSIENT reason let’s improve, | |
| That human life allots to love; | |
| Youth soon, my Cynthia! flies away, | |
| And age assumes its frozen sway; | |
| With elegance and neatness dressed, | 5 |
| Come there, in beauty’s bloom confessed, | |
| And in my fond embrace be blest! | |
| Faint smugglings, but inflame desire, | |
| And serve to fan the lover’s fire; | |
| Then yield not all at once your charms, | 10 |
| But with reluctance fill my arms: | |
| My arms! that shall, with eager haste, | |
| Encircle now your slender waist; | |
| Now round your neck be careless hung, | |
| And now o’er all your frame be flung: | 15 |
| About your limbs my limbs I’ll twine, | |
| And lay your glowing cheek to mine: | |
| Close to my broad, manlier chest, | |
| I’ll press thy firm, proud-swelling breast, | |
| Now rising high, now falling low, | 20 |
| As passion’s tide shall ebb, or flow: | |
| My murmuring tongue shall speak my bliss, | |
| Shall court your yielding lips to kiss; | |
| Each kiss with thousands I’ll repay, | |
| And almost suck your breath away: | 25 |
| A thousand more you then shall give, | |
| And then a thousand more receive; | |
| In transport half-dissolved we’ll lie, | |
| Venting our wishes in a sigh. | |
| Quick-starting from me, now display | 30 |
| Your loose and discomposed array: | |
| Your hair shall o’er your polished brow, | |
| In sweetly-wild disorder flow, | |
| And those long tresses from behind, | |
| You used in artful braids to bind, | 35 |
| Shall down your snowy bosom spread | |
| Redundant, in a softened shade; | |
| And from your wishful eyes shall stream | |
| The dewy light of passion’s flame: | |
| While now and then a look shall glance, | 40 |
| Your senses lost in amorous trance; | |
| That fain my rudeness would remove, | |
| Yet plainly tells how strong you love; | |
| The roses heightened on your cheek, | |
| Shall the fierce tide of rapture speak; | 45 |
| And on your lips a warmer glow | |
| The deepened ruby then shall show: | |
| Your breast, replete with youthful fire, | |
| Shall heave with tumults of desire; | |
| Shall heave at thoughts of wished-for bliss, | 50 |
| Springing as though ’twould meet my kiss: | |
| Down on that heaven I’ll sink quite spent, | |
| And lie in tender languishment; | |
| But soon your charms’ reviving power, | |
| Shall to my frame new life restore: | 55 |
| With love I’ll then my pains assuage, | |
| With kisses cool my wanton rage, | |
| Hang o’er thy beauties till I cloy, | |
| Then cease, and then renew my joy. | |
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