| Citation |
NHG-P.782.015
9 Mar 1782:33 (26/1323)
From the London Courant.
SONG.
By the late Dr. Hoadly, never before printed.
1. When Chloe try'd her virgin fires,
And first her shafts let fly;
She filled my breast with vague desires--
I thought it was her eye.
2. When melting strains fell from her mouth,
Which Gods might wish to sip;
When all was harmony and truth,
I thought it was her lip.
3. But when she danc'd! such air, such grace,
What mortal could escape;
I look'd no longer on her face;
I swore it was her shape.
. . . [2 more verses]
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