Classic Poem

In Cloe's Chamber, she and I
Together sate, no Creature high — — —
The Time and Place combin'd to move
A Longing for the Joys of Love — —
I sigh'd, and kiss'd, and press'd her Hand — —
Did all — — to make her understand — —
She, pretty, tender-hearted Creature,
Obey'd the Dictates of good Nature,
As far as Modesty would let her — —
A melting Virgin seldom Speaks,
But with her Breasts, and Eyes, and Cheeks:
Nor was it hard from these to find
That Cloe had almost — — a Mind — —
Thus far 'twas well, but to proceed,
What should I do? — Grow bold — — I did — —
At last she falter'd, what would'st have?
Your Love said I, or else my Grave.
Suppose it were the first, quoth she,
Could you for ever constant be?
For ever? Cloe , by those Eyes,
Those Bubbies which so fall and rise,
By all that's soft, and all that's fair,
By your whole sacred self, I swear,
Your fondest Wishes ne'er shall crave
So constant, so compleat a Slave!
Damon , you know too well the Art,
She sighing said, to reach my Heart!
Yet oh! I can't, I won't comply — —
Why will you press? Dear Damon why?

Desunt Caetera

For Cloe coming in one Day ,
As on my Desk the Copy lay — — —
What means this rhiming Fool? she cries,
Why some Folks may believe these Lies!
So on the Flame she threw the Sheet — —
I burn'd my Hand to save this Bit.