I Ah! what can mean that eager Joy Transports my Heart when you appear? Ah Strephon! you my Thoughts imploy In all that’s Charming, all that’s Dear. 5 When you your pleasing Story tell, A Softness does invade each Part, And I with Blushes own I feel Something too tender at my Heart. II At your approach my Blushes rise, 10 And I at once both wish and fear; My wounded Soul mounts to my Eyes, As it would prattle Stories there. Take, take that Heart that needs must go; But, Shepherd, see it kindly us’d: 15 For who such Presents will bestow, If this, alas! should be abus’d?