Soldier's dream/Hap me with thy petticoat

HAP ME WITH THY PETTICOAT.

O Bell thy looks have kill’d my heart,
I pass the day in pain ;
When night returns I feel the smart,
And wish for thee in vain.
I'm starving cold, whilst thou art warm,
Have pity and incline,
And grant me for a hap that charm-
ing petticoat of thine.

My ravished fancy in amaze,
Still wanders o'er thy charms ;
Delusive dreams ten thousand ways,
Present thee to my arms.
Then waking think what I endure,
While cruel you decline,
Those pleasures, which can only cure,
This panting heart of mine.

I faint, I fail, I wildly rove,
Because you still deny,
The just reward that's due to love.
And let true passion die.

Oh! turn, and let compassion seize,
That lovely breast of thine :
Thy petticoat wad give me ease,
If thou and it were mine.

Sure Heaven has fitted for delight,
That beanteous form of thine,
And thou’rt too good its laws to slight,
By hind'ring the design.
May all the powers of love agree,
At length to make thee thine ;
Or loose my chains, and set me free,
From every charm of thine,