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8
Thy peticoat would give me eaſe,
if thou and it were mine.
Sure Heaven has fitted for delight,
that beaateous form of thine,
And thou'rt too good its law to ſlight,
by hind ring the deſign.
May all the powers of love agree,
at length to make thee mine,
Or loſe my chains, and ſet me free
from ev'ry charm of thine.
F I N I S.
