The Boudoir No. 4

THE LOVERS DESIRE

You hate me, dear girl; say no more you love, If I must only know what is above;

To kiss your lips and hands, these are but toys, They're torments unto lovers, and not joys.

I hate the wanton folly of a kiss,

If not a passage to a further bliss.

Men seek treasures in women, and if so,

You must give leave to let them dig below The barren face of earth; since Nature's art, Hath hid such pleasures in her secret part.

Why then so coy? Perhaps you would be wed, Before you'd lose your precious maidenhead;

Then I may claim it as my right and due, The law then gives it me! It is not you;

If you would have me think't a kindness shown, Then give it freely whilst it is your own.