GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.7.45-3.7.62 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.7.45-3.7.62

I rais'd indeed, but rais'd an empty storm;Most disappointed when the most propense,And shame was second cause of impotence.What limbs I touch'd ! and only touch'd ! oh, fie!Where was the blissful touch ? her shift can vieIn feasts like these, and touch as well as I.Yet to touch her e'en Nestor might grow young,And centuries, like twenty-one, be strung.Such was the maid; the parallel had ranGraceful, if I could add, such was the man.Some envious deity with vengeance glow'd,So sweet a gift had been so ill bestow'd.I burn to clasp her naked in my arms,Did she not freely open all her charms ?What boots good fortune, if we want the pow'rTo snatch the pleasures of the favour'd hour?I, like a miser, only could behold,And brooded o'er an useless mine of gold;