Classic Poem

I

Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,
Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green;
She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed
By the tousing and tumbling and touching her breast;
She saw the men eager, but was at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close,
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.

II

" Ah", she cried, " ah, for a languishing maid
In a country of Christians to die without aid!
Not a Whig or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Protestant parson or Catholic priest
To instruct a young virgin that is at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close!
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close."

III

Cupid in shape of a swain did appear,
He saw the sad wound, and in pity drew near;
Then showed her his arrow, and bid her not fear,
For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear.
When the balm was infused she was not at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close,
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.