Address

Once at your Feet you saw your Sylvius Kneel,
Unmov'd with anguish he was doom'd to feel.
You hear'd his Sighs, you saw his Tears run down,
You saw them all, but you return'd him none.
How shall I now my swelling Passion tell,
Which best my silence did ev'n then reveal?
Your Charming form kindles excessive Fires,
And something wond'rous as it self inspires.
In looks, and sighs, I faintly spoke my Soul,
Nought but Possession could express it whole.
While on your Knees the ruin'd Sylvius hung,
Imperfect Words fell from his fault'ring Tongue
In sighs and wishes lost, did Sylvius lye,
And his sick Soul lay melting in his Eye.
Fasten'd with longings on your Charming Face,
And scarce he rose to the last dear embrace.
In vain, in vain, was all his Passion mov'd,
The wretched Swain must never, never be belov'd.