 | Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose |  |
On a Lady from India, who loves Bathing.
In
Eastern streams the matchless Maid
Her Climate's sultry fires allay'd;
To British Baths she now retreats,
As panting here with equal heats.
Her Climate's sultry fires allay'd;
To British Baths she now retreats,
As panting here with equal heats.
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And might the Flame within her Heart
Be guess'd by those her Looks impart!
She feels a Fever of her own,
To India's parching Sands unknown.
Be guess'd by those her Looks impart!
She feels a Fever of her own,
To India's parching Sands unknown.
For twice the thirsty Race respires,
As twice the circling Sun retires,
And cool reviving gales asswage
By night his equinoctial rage.
As twice the circling Sun retires,
And cool reviving gales asswage
By night his equinoctial rage.
But night in vain her dews applies
To Fevers shot from Flavia's eyes;
And, fir'd by distant charms, I prove
That only Death can conquer Love.
To Fevers shot from Flavia's eyes;
And, fir'd by distant charms, I prove
That only Death can conquer Love.
| Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose | |