Classic Poem

I led my Silvia to a Grove,
Where all the Boughs did shade us
The Sun it self, though it had strove
It could not have betray'd us.
The place secur'd from humane eyes
No other fear alows,
But when the Winds do gently rise;
And kiss the yeilding Boughs.

Down there we sate upon the Moss,
And did begin to play,
A thousand wanton tricks to pass,
The heat of all the day.
A many kisses I did give,
And she return'd the same,
Which made her willing to receive;
That which I dare not name.

My greedy eyes no ayds requir'd,
To tell their amorous Tale,
On her that was already fir'd:
'Twas easie to prevail.
I did but kiss and claspe her round,
[Whilst] they my thoughts exprest,
And laid her gently on the ground:
Oh! who can guess the rest.