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(From Poetical Works, 1728)
COME my Laura, come my love; | |
| Come my tender turtle-dove; | |
| Let me from this host retire, | |
| To languish in a softer fire, | |
| How the waving elms invite us! | 5 |
| How the rosy bowers delight us! | |
| How their am’rous foldings twine, | |
| To imitate thy arms and mine! | |
| See these snowy lilies blowing, | |
| With the blushing roses glowing, | 10 |
| Silently the soul inspire, | |
| To kindle at thy lover’s fire: | |
| See these springing violets rise, | |
| Animated by thy eyes; | |
| Lavishly their charms they spread, | 15 |
| To make a soft enamelled bed; | |
| And like this downy swelling breast, | |
| They rise, and languish to be pressed. | |
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| But O thou happy, happy grove, | |
| Sacred to the God of love, | 20 |
| With the thickest umbrage shade us, | |
| Let no piercing rays invade us: | |
| Let no light but Beauty’s charm us, | |
| Let no heat but Beauty’s warm us; | |
| Make our artificial light, | 25 |
| Close and sweet as our delight. | |
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| And now, my dear, no longer coy, | |
| Let us give a thought to joy! | |
| Then, closely lay thy lips to mine, | |
| And let our souls and bodies join: | 30 |
| Let me suck thy balmy breath, | |
| And fainting, glory in my death. | |
| Take me dying to thy arms, | |
| Ah me! I die with pleasing pain, | |
| O kindle me to life again. | 35 |
| And now, my brighter Queen of Love, | |
| I’ll confess the stronger Jove. | |
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| O happiest transport, dearest blessing, | |
| Sweetest-rapture past expressing! | |
| Who can tell the thrilling pleasure, | 40 |
| When the nymph resigns her treasure! | |
| When she melts in ripen’d blisses, | |
| Breathing out her soul in kisses! | |
| When in Paradise she lies, | |
| And rolls her pretty dying eyes: | 45 |
| While the Snake with softer strains, | |
| Sweetly stings her tickling veins! | |
| She pants, she sighs, she heaves her charms, | |
| And locks her vig’rous lover in her arms. | |
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