Young Coridon and Phillis 
Sat in a lovely grove; 
Contriving crowns of lilies; 
Repeat tales of love: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
But as they were playing, 
She ogled so the swain; 
It saved her plainly saying, 
Let's kiss to ease our pain: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
A thousand times he kissed her, 
Laying her on the green; 
But as he farther pressed her, 
Her pretty leg was seen: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
So many beauties removing, 
Her ardour still increased; 
And greater joys pursuing, 
He wandered o'er her breast: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
A last effort she trying, 
His passion to withstand; 
Cried, but it was faintly crying, 
Pray take away your hand: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
Young Coridon grown bolder 
The minute would approve; 
This is the time he told her, 
To shew you how I love: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
The nymph seemed almost dying, 
Dissolved in amorous heat; 
She kissed, and told him sighing, 
My dear, your love is great: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
But Phillis did recover 
Much sooner than the swain; 
She blushing asked her lover, 
Shall we not kiss again: 
And something else, but what I dare not name. 
 
Thus love his revels keeping, 
Till nature at a stand; 
From talk they fell to sleeping, 
Holding each other's hand: 
And something else, but what I dare not name.