The Rapture Poem by Henry Baker

You Gods! to fold the Charmer in my Arms,
And press her panting bosom close to mine!
Whilst with tumultuous Ardor turning round,
With equal Warmth my Rapture she returns,
Owns all the Bliss, and gives me Sigh for Sigh!
To drink large Draughts of Pleasure from her Lips,
And in her Eyes behold immortal Day,
Is Extacy so great! Delight so vast!
That was it lasting, could but Nature bear
The Rage of such unsufferable Joy,
Thus blest, I scarce one Thought should cast away
On Heav'n's eternal Happiness, or You!