Why art thou drest, my lovely Maid!
In Gold, and Gems, and rich Brocade?
When Gold, and Gems, and rich Brocade,
Conceal thy Charms, my lovely Maid!

Why spend'st thou all this Time and Care,
To form thy Shape, to fold thy Hair?
Thy Shape unbrac'd, thy flowing Hair,
More beauteous are without thy Care.

Wou'd'st thou, indeed, be finely drest?
Put by this Robe which hides thy Breast:
Unbound thy Hair, and bare thy Breast,
Thou art, my Charmer! finely drest.

Remove these Vestments all away,
Which like dark Clouds obscure the Day:
O! let them not obscure thy Day:
Remove them all, my Fair! away.

Then shining forth adorn'd with Charms,
Ah! let me fold thee in my Arms!
Transported, fold thee in my Arms!
And gaze and wonder at thy Charms.