[Ah, Chloris! could]1 I now but sit
  As unconcern'd as when
Your infant beauty could beget
  No happiness [or]2 pain!
When I [the dawn used to]3 admire,
  And praised the coming day,
I little thought [the]4 rising fire
  Would take my rest away.

Your charms in harmless childhood lay
  [Like]5 metals in a mine;
Age from no face takes more away
  Than youth conceal'd in thine.
But as your charms insensibly
  To their [perfection]6 prest,
So love as unperceived did fly,
  And centr'd in my breast.

My passion with your beauty grew,
  While Cupid at my heart,
Still as his mother favour'd you,
  Threw a new flaming dart:
Each gloried in their wanton part;
  [To make a lover, he
Employ'd the utmost of his art --
  To make a beauty, she.]7