Charming AMINTAS:OR, The Yielding VIRGIN. To a Pleasant New Tune. This may be Printed.
|
WHen first Amintas su'd for a Kiss,
|
my innocent Heart was tender;
|
That though I push'd him away from the bliss,
|
my Eyes declar'd my Heart was won:
|
I fain an awfull kindness wou'd use,
|
before I the Fort did surrender:
|
But Love would suffer no more such abuse,
|
and soon (alas) my Cheats was known:
|
He'd sit all day, and laugh and play,
|
a thousand pretty things he'd say:
|
My hand he'd squeeze, and press my knees,
|
till further on he got by degrees.
|
My heart just like a Vessel at Sea,
|
Wou'd toss when Amintas was near me;
|
But ah! so cunning a Pilot was he,
|
Through doubts and fears he'd still sail on,
|
I thought in him no danger cou'd be,
|
So wisely he knew how to Steer me,
|
And soon alas! was brought to agree,
|
To taste of Joys before unknown:
|
Well might he boast, his pains not lost,
|
For soon he found the Golden Coast;
|
Enjoy'd the Oar, and toucht the shore,
|
Where never Merchant went before.
|
Soft Blushes always came in my Face,
|
Whenever Amintas drew near me;
|
He told me Roses lookt with such grace,
|
And pretty fair dazies when Summer comes on
|
He prest me, kist me with so much love,
|
I could not deny him the Blessing:
|
And with such sweet Words my heart he did move
|
That soon I yielded to him alone.
|
So Violets by the Sun are won,
|
To spread their Leaves and be undone;
|
The heat does warm and sweetly charm,
|
And makes young Maids forget all the harm.
|
A thousand times that he would be true,
|
Amintas protested unto me;
|
He then his soft Kisses again wou'd renew,
|
So Balmy and sweet, that I soon was wo[n]
|
With sighs and vows he rais'd such a fire,
|
That made my young heart to surrender:
|
And then by his Art he still blew it up higher,
|
Till Maiden-doubts and fears were gone.
|
None could resist whenever he list,
|
So gently soft and sweet he kist,
|
His Head he'd rest upon my Breast,
|
And those soft tender Pillows he be prest,
|
The Marble stone will melt by degrees,
|
If often soft Dew doth drop on it;
|
Amintas he any Maiden might please,
|
To yield to his Arms, and like me to be w[?]
|
Could any resist such gentle soft charms,
|
Such vows, such sighs, and such kisses?
|
Could any repine at so sweet a Youths arms:
|
She sure must yield, or else be a Drone.
|
We will not lose no time in Rhime,
|
But say that Maidens in their prime:
|
Should for their Head take Tom or Ned,
|
For Flint will break on Feather Bed.
|
|
|
|
|
|