html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }This Day, which saw my Delia's Beauty rise,
Shall more than all our sacred Days be blest,
The World, enamour'd of her lovely Eyes,
Shall grow as good and gentle as her Breast.
By all our guarded Sighs, and hid Desires,
Oh may our guiltless Love be still the same,
I burn, and glory in the pleasing Fires,
If Delia's Bosom share the mutual Flame.
Thou happy Genius of her natal Hour,
Accept her Incense, if her Thoughts be kind;
But let her court in vain thy angry Power,
If all our Vows are blotted from her Mind.
And thou, O Venus, hear my righteous Pray'r,
Or bind the Shepherdess or loose the Swain,
Yet rather guard them both with equal Care,
And let them die together in thy Chain:
What I demand perhaps her Heart desires,
But Virgin Fears her nicer Tongue restrain,
The secret Thought, which blushing Love inspires,
The conscious Eye can full as well explain.