A Lady lovely, with a charming Meen,
Gay, frank, and open, and an Air serene;
In every Look she does her Soul impart,
With ease one reads the Sent’ments of her Heart;
Her Humour generous, and her Language free,
And all her Conversation graceful Liberty:
Her Villa is Youth’s general Rendezvous,
Where in delightful Gardens, winding Groves,
The happy Lovers dwell with secresie,
Un-interrupted by fond Jealousie:
’Tis there with Innocence, they do and say
A thousand things, to pass the short-liv’d day:
There free from censuring Spies, they entertain,
And pleasures tast, un-intermixt with pain.
’Tis there we see, what most we do adore,
And yet we languish to discover more.
Hard fate of Lovers, who are ne’er content,
In an Estate so Blest and Innocent.
But still press forward, urg’d by soft desires,
To Joys that oft extinguishes their Fires;
In this degree I found a happiness,
Which nought but wishing more cou’d render less.
I saw Aminta here without controul,
And told her all the Secrets of my Soul;
Whilst she t’ express her height of Amity,
Communicated all her Thoughts to me.