Some in balmy kisses sip

Nectar from her glowing lip;

Her each heaving snowy breast,

Some with wanton ardour press'd;

Twining round her slender waist,

Some with eager joy embrac'd;

Whilst, at random, others rove

Through the fragrant groves of love.

Whilst thus the God his revels keeps,

Kitty, happy virgin, sleeps:

A pleasing dream her soul employs,

Rich with imaginary joys.

She thinks Sir Charles, upon his knees,

Beseeching her to give him ease;

That she, disdainful, looks awhile;

At length, with a complying smile,

His fears dispelling, lets him see

She burns with love as well as he:

That, folded in his eager arms,

He boldy rifles all her charms,

Whilst she returns the warm embrace,

Breast to breast, and face to face.

Sighing she wakes: "Ah! love," she cries,

"How vast must be thy real joys!

"When thus divinely great they seem,

"Tho' but imagin'd in a dream?"

Scarcely this reflection o'er,

A footman thunders at the door;

Kitty, disordered, leaves her couch,

And Betty tells the Knight's approach.

He enters with becoming grace,

Blushes overspread her face;

In a soft, persuasive strain,

He begs her to relieve his pain.

Nothing she says; but from her eyes

He learns that nothing she denies.

Encourag'd thence, her lips, her breast, He tries, and wanders o'er the rest:

The glowing maid, no longer coy,

Gives an unbounded loose to joy;

Around him folds her snowy arms,

At once bestowing all her charms:

And now this happy couple prove

All the substantial sweets of love;

Till hast'ning to Love's destin'd goal,