Sir Richard Steele (1672–1729)

WHY, lovely charmer, tell me, why

So very kind, and yet so shy?

Why does that cold forbiding air

Give damps of sorrow and despair?

Or why that smile my soul subdue;

And kindle up my flames anew?

In vain you strive, with all your art,

By turns, to freeze, and fire my heart;

When I behold a face so fair,

So sweet a look, so soft an air;

My ravished soul is charmed all o’er;

I cannot love thee less, or more.