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Song II. The Imaginary Kiss.
When Fanny I saw as she tript o'er the green,
Fair, blooming, soft, artless and kind;
Fond love in her eyes, wit and sense in her mien,
And warmness with modesty join'd:
Transported with sudden amazement I stood,
Fast riveted down to the place;
Her delicate shape, easy motion I view'd,
And wander'd o'er every grace.
Fair, blooming, soft, artless and kind;
Fond love in her eyes, wit and sense in her mien,
And warmness with modesty join'd:
Transported with sudden amazement I stood,
Fast riveted down to the place;
Her delicate shape, easy motion I view'd,
And wander'd o'er every grace.
Ye gods! what luxuriance of beauty, I cry,
What raptures must dwell in her arms!
On her lips I could feast, on her breast I could die,
O Fanny, how sweet are thy charms!
Whilst thus in idea my passion I fed,
Soft transport my senses invade,
Young Damon step'd up, with the substance he fled,
And left me to kiss the dear shade.
What raptures must dwell in her arms!
On her lips I could feast, on her breast I could die,
O Fanny, how sweet are thy charms!
Whilst thus in idea my passion I fed,
Soft transport my senses invade,
Young Damon step'd up, with the substance he fled,
And left me to kiss the dear shade.
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