from Elegies, I.iv

Yield prompt compliance to the maid’s desires; A prompt compliance fans the lover’s fires: Go pleas’d where’er she goes, tho’ long the way, Tho’ the fierce Dog-star dart his sultry ray; Tho’ painted Iris gird the bluish sky, And sure portends, that rattling storms are nigh: Or, if the fair one pant for sylvan fame, Gay drag the meshes, and provoke the game: Nay, should she choose to risk the driving gale; Or steer, or row, or agile hand the sail: No toil, tho’ weak, tho’ fearful, thou forbear; No toils should tire you, and no dangers scare: Occasion smiles, then snatch an ardent kiss; The coy may struggle, but will grant the bliss: The bliss obtain’d, the fictious struggle past, Unbid, they’ll clasp you in their arms at last.