Yes, dearest Object of my soft Desire,
Thou sweet Inspirer of my endless Fire;
With thee I'll trace the Groves, each winding Mead,
And follow where thy charming Footsteps lead:
Yet let me view thee; on that lovely Face
Let me with fond extatic Rapture gaze;
Let thy Voice charm me with its Magick Sound,
And my fond Soul with thrilling Pleasure wound;
For sweet's thy Beauties to my ravish'd Sight,
And thy dear Voice my list'ning Ears delight.