Thespia XVI: O My soul's only Joy! My promised Wife

O My soul's only Joy! My promised Wife!
For whom I breathe, for whom the stream of life
Swift courses thro' my veins! Thou generous Maid,
By Truth, and young Sincerity array'd
In unsuspecting honour! Nobly free,
Placing th' excess of confidence in Me.
Who heedless of th' insipid, prudish art,
Own'st all the genuine dictates of thy heart.
From Me no word, no action shalt thou find
To soil thy innate loveliness of Mind.
From Me thy innocence hath nought to fear,
To Me be still unboundedly sincere.
Still gaze on Me with love's complacent eye,
Still give Me tear for tear, and sigh for sigh.
In my fond bosom hide thy blushing face,
Be more than passive still to my embrace.
Dearest of Women! Oh! without controul
Indulge these finest movements of the soul!
My breast is not with vulgar passion fraught,
I glory in my dignity of thought.

Tis true, I feel within the kindling fire,
I feel the madd'ning anguish of desire.
The agonizing joy, the rapturous pain
Goads each idea of my swimming brain.
Yet this, tho' sympathising Thou appear,
To faintness, and to sickness can I bear,
Nay e'en to death itself, e'er Thou shalt see
A deed unworthy of Myself and Thee.