To a Lady having lost three Kisses on a Wager with me, and refusing to pay them

Why, Charming Maid, should you delude me so?
Can those dear Lips deny the Debt they owe?
Those happy Lips, dissolv'd in Balmy bliss,
Envy'd by me, since they each other Kiss.
How do I long for the Divine delight,
When they refuse, what they at once invite!
He who with you will such a Wager lay,
Must hold the stakes, or you will never pay.
A Kiss would me to hopes of Blessings move,
For 'tis the Prologue to the Play of Love.
Tell me, my fair, what are […] Joys I want?
What is that bliss, which you refuse to grant?
A Kiss you say — and prethee what is this?
Why, all you Answer, is, that 'tis a Kiss.
A pretty saying, by thy Lips it is.
Well, it's Existence Just in nothing lies,
It lives unborn, for when 'tis got, it dies;
The sickly Off-spring of a fond desire,
And what begets it, makes it strait expire;
While 'tis enjoy'd with a more warm embrace,
Your ruddy Lips dissolve it's sweets apace,
While Thousands more spread o'er your Beauteous Face.
So Snow on AEtna still is melting found,
Yet still it lies upon the wond'rous ground.
O let me Kiss, and rifle all thy store,
O let me Sow, and reap ten thousand more,
I'll Kiss thee thro', I'll Kiss thy Soul all o'er.