In vain, my gentle Charmer, you inquire
How many thousand Kisses I desire;
Say first, how many Sands the Shores contain,
And Drop by Drop the boundless Ocean drain;
Count all the Stars that gild the silent Night,
And glitter, conscious of each stol'n Delight:
Count all the Leaves, that on ten thousand Trees
Tremble, obedient to the Morning Breeze:
Count all the Courtiers Arts, the Tradesman's Lies,
The Miser's Wishes, and the Lover's Sighs,
Then will I tell thee, nor till then enquire,
How many thousand Kisses I desire;
Scarce will Arithmetick the Sum explain,
Millions on Millions multiply'd in vain.