Love smiling comes, whose Power I should conceal,
Nor tell those Joys I blush when I reveal.
Him Cytheræa mov'd by my Request,
Has brought, and lodg'd the Favourite in my Breast:
At length the Goddess has inclin'd her Aid,
And now performs the Promises she made.
Let them who have no Pleasures of their own
Repeat my Joys, and make my Triumphs known;
No Letters shall contain the dear Delight,
No Pen shall such excessive Raptures write,
No one shall know my Joy, 'till me they see,
And hear the glad Relation told by me:
Sweet is the Crime, yet still the noisy Fame
That Rumour spreads, will set my Cheeks on Flame;
When every one shall hear the Tale with Joy,
And speak me worthy of the lovely Boy.