A Song

Clarinda's lips I fondly prest,
While rapture fill'd each vein;
And as I touch'd her downy breast,
Its tenant slept serene.

So soft a calm, in such a part,
Betrays a peaceful mind;
Whilst my uneasy flutt'ring heart,
Would scarcely be confin'd.

A stubborn oak the shepherd sees,
Unmov'd, when storms descend;
But ah! to ev'ry sporting breeze,
The myrtle bough must bend.