On a Lady drinking the Bath-Waters.

THE gushing streams impetuous flow,
In haste to DELIA'S lips to go,
With equal haste and equal heat,
Who would not rush those lips to meet?
Bless'd envy'd streams, still greater bliss
Attends your warm and liquid kiss.
For from her lips your welcome tide
Shall down her heaving bosom glide;
There fill each swelling globe of love,
And touch that heart I ne'er could move.
From hence in soft meanders stray,
And find at last the blissful way
Which thought may paint, tho' verse mayn't say.
Too happy rival dwell not there
To rack my heart with jealous care,
But quit the blest abode, tho' loth,
And quickly passing, ease us both.