Classic Poem

Your bosom's sweet treasures thus ever disclose!
For believe my ingenuous confession,
The veil meant to hide them, but only bestows
A softness transcending expression.

" Good Heaven!" cries Kitty, " what language I hear!
Have I trespass'd on Chastity's laws?
Is my tucker's clear muslin indecently clear?
Is it no satin apron, but gauze?"

Ah, no! — not the least swelling charm is descried
Through the tucker, too bashfully decent;
And your apron hides all that short aprons can hide,
From the fashion of Eve to the present.

The veil, too transparent to hinder the sight,
Is what modesty throws on your mind:
That veil only shades, with a tenderer light,
All the feminine graces behind.