[For once, I think a photo is superfluous -- just use your imagination]
Unequal'd raptures happiest happiness
For sure no raptures can compare with thee
Now lovley Anna in her sunday dress
In softest pressure sits upon my knee.—
For O to see the snowey bosom heave
And feel those robes to me so softley cleave
Robes which half show what modesty consceals
While round her slender wa[i]ste I fling my arms
And while her eye what's wanting yet reveals
To me apears such (more than heavenly) charms
That might I wish—and could I be so blest
To have it granted—O I'd wish to be
For ever of this matchles maid posses'd
To bear her weight through all Eternity
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