To Amasia, on the Accidental falling of her loose Garments, which discover'd to my view her Breasts

'Tis hard indeed, (so many Charms you boast,)
Justly to tell, which takes your Sylvius most;
This does alone within my Judgment fall,
All, who have Eyes to see, admire them all.
Piercing, yet soft, your killing looks appear,
And all, bright dazling rays of Lustre bear;
Your Heavenly Voice has Charming Pow'rs to move,
And your Ayrs Fan, and spreads the Fires of Love.
But when your Breasts the falling Garments […],
How blest a Scene of Beauties did I view!
AEtna, I thought till now, had rag'd alone,
I knew no Rivals to that burning Throne;
Your Breasts, as well may Admiration claim,
For they are Snowy Mounts ejecting Flame.
What falls from Heav'n that Fiery Hill secures,
Nor is it's Frost near so Divine as yours.
Columbus ne'er did such fair Worlds descry,
His Travels could not make him blest as I,
Your Garments show'd me Heav'n, they were the Cloudy Sky.
On your soft Globes Young smiling Cupids play,
And tender Loves your Beauteous Islands sway.
Venus in State does on these Thrones appear,
She keeps her Paphos, and Cythera here.
Your Golden Locks, spread all around, would show
A pleasing soil, where Milk, and Honey flow.
Whose tides of Joys, reserv'd for Babes must be,
It will ne'er prove a promis'd Land to me.
This shews that Infants are more blest than Men;
I for those Breasts would be a Child again.