An Immoral Anthology (1933)

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AN
IMMORAL
ANTHOLOGY

DECORATED BY ANDRE DURENCEAU
& ISSUED AT THE SIGN OF THE
BLUE-BEHINDED APE
MCMXXXIII


 

§J          A MAIDENHEAD
OM E, sit thee down by these cool streams,
Never yet warmed by Titan's beams!
My tender youth thy waist shall clip,
And fix upon thy cherry lip;
And lay thee down on this green bed,
Where thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.
See how the little Philip Sparrow,
Whose joints do overflow with marrow,
On yonder bough how he doth prove
With his mate the joys of love,
And doth instruct thee, as he doth tread,
How thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.
7


O you younglings, be not nice!
Coyness in maids is such a vice,
That if in youth you do not marry,
In age young men will let you tarry.
By my persuasion then be led,
And lose in time thy maidenhead.
Clothes that embroidered be with gold,
if never used, will quickly mold;
If in time you do not pluck
The damisine or the apricot,
In pinching Autumn they'll be dead;
Then lose in time thy maidenhead.
[Anonymous]

^_ WHILE SWEET BESSY
COfij SLEEPING LAY
V.3&T FELL on a summer's day,
While sweet Bessy sleeping lay,
In her bower, on her bed,
Light with curtains shadowed,
jamy came: she him espies,
Opening half her heavy eyes.
8


Jamy stole in through the door,
She lay slumb'ring as before;
Softly to her he drew near,
She heard him, yet would not hear:
Bessy vowed not to speak,
He resolved that dump to break.
First a soft kiss he doth take,
She lay still and would not wake;
Then his hands learned to woo,
She dreamt not what he would do,
But still slept, while he smiled
To see love by sleep beguiled.
Jamy then began to play,
Bessy as one buried lay,
Gladly still through this sleight
Deceived in her own deceit;
And since this trance begoon,
She sleeps every afternoon.
[Thomas Campion]
9


C/                   SONG
UcWEET, exclude me not, nor be divided
From him that ere long must bed thee:
All thy maiden doubts law hath decided;
Sure we are, and I must wed thee.
Presume then yet a little more:
Here's the way, bar not the door.
Tenants, to fulfill their landlord's pleasure,
Pay their rent before the quarter:
Tis my case if you it rightly measure;
Put me not then off with laughter.
Consider then a little more:
Here's the way to all my store.
Why were doors in love's despite devised?
Are not laws enough restraining?
Women are most apt to be surprised
Sleeping, or sleep wisely feigning.
Then grace me yet a little more:
Here's the way, bar not the door.
[Thomas Campion]
10


CUPID'S FIRE
vLy EAUTY, since you so much desire
To know the place of Cupid's fire,
About you somewhere doth it rest,
Yet never harboured in your breast,
Nor gout-like in your heel or toe,—
What fool would seek Love's flame so low?
But a little higher, but a little higher,
There, there, 0 there lies Cupid's fire.
Think not, when Cupid most you scorn,
Men judge that you of ice were born;
For though you cast love at your heel,
His fury yet sometimes you feel:
And whereabouts if you would know,
I tell you still not in your toe:
But a little higher, but a little higher,
There, there, 0 there lies Cupid's fire.
[Thomas Campion]
11


an_immortal_anthology (104)-3.jpg

UPON JULIA'S WASHING HERSELF
^tjf IN THE RIVER
\)OW fierce was 1, when I did see
My Julia wash her self in thee!
So lilies through crystal look:
So purest pebbles in the brook:
As in the river Julia did,
Half with a lawn of water hid,
Into thy streams my self I threw,
And struggling there, I kist thee too;
And more had done (it is confest)
Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
[Robert Herrick]
12


(M.THE POET'S L0VE
v_J& DO not love to wed,
Though I do like to woo;
And for a maidenhead
I'll beg and buy it too.
I'll praise and I'll approve
Those maids that never vary;
And fervently I'll love,
But yet I would not marry.
I'll hug, I'll kiss, I'll play,
And, cock-like, hens I'll tread,
And sport in any way
But in the bridal bed.
For why? that man is poor
Who hath but one of many,
But crowned he is with store
That, single, may have any.
Why, then, say, what is he,
To freedom so unknown,
Who, having two or three,
Will be content with one?
[Robert Herrick]
13


JTO ANTHEA
H my Anthea! Must my heart still break?
(Love makes me write, what shame forbids to speak)
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score;
Then to that twenty, add an hundred more;
A thousand to that hundred; so kiss on,
To make that thousand up a million.
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun.
But yet, though Love likes well such scenes as these,
There is an act that will more fully please.
Kissing and glancing, soothing, all make way
But to the acting of this private play:
Name it I would; but being blushing red,
The rest I'll speak, when we meet both in bed.
[Robert Herrick]
14


an_immortal_anthology (104)-4.jpg

' ■■               THE VINE
vJsZ, DREAMED this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs and thighs
1 with my tendrils did surprise;
Her belly, buttocks and her waist
By my soft nervelets were embraced:
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seemed to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curls about her neck did crawl,
And arms and hands they did enthrall:
15


So that she could not freefy stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancy I awoke;
And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock than like a vine.
[Robert Herrick]
# f)y\ WHEN PHOEBUS ADDREST
VV^y HEN Phcebus addrest himself to the west,
And set up his rest below,
Cynthia agreed in her glittering weed
Her beauty on me to bestow;
And walking alone, attended by none,
By chance I heard one cry
"0 do not, do not, kill me yet,
For i am not prepared to die!"
With that I drew near to see and to hear,
And strange did appear such a show;
16


The moon it was bright, and gave such a light
As fits not each wight to know:
A man and a maid together where laid,
And ever the maid she did cry,
"0 do not, do not, kill me yet,
For I am not resolved to die!"
The youth was rough, he took up her stuff,
And to blindman's buff they did go;
He kept such a coil, he gave her the foil,
So great the broil it did grow.
But she was so young, and he was so strong,
And he left her not till she did cry,
"0 do not, do not, kill me yet,
For I am not resolved to die!"
With that he gave o'er, and solemnly swore
He would kill her no more that night,
But bade her adieu: full little he knew
She would tempt him to more delight.
But when they should part, it went to her heart,
And gave her more cause for to cry,
"0 kill me, kill me, once again,
For now I am willing to die!"
[Anonymous]
17


§) TO HIS MISTRESS GOING TO BED
OME, madam, come, all rest my powers defy;
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th'eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th'hill's shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet, and show
The hairy diadems which on you grow.
Off with your hose and shoes; then softly tread
In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Revealed to men; thou, angel, bring'st with thee
A heaven-like Mahomet's paradise; and though
III spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite:
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
18


License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
Oh, my America, my Newfoundland,
My kingdom, safest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery!
How am I blest in thus discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be.
Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee;
As souls embodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's ball cast in men's views;
That, when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul might court that, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus arrayed.
Themselves are only mystic books, which we
—Whom their imputed grace will dignify—
Must see revealed. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself; cast all, yea, this white linen hence;
There is no penance due to innocence:
To teach thee, I am naked first; why then,
What needst thou have more covering than a man?
[John Donne]
19


 

/Life            THE FLEA
C <          \JarK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deny'st me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
20


Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st and say'st that thou
Find'st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
Tis true, then learn how false, fears be;
Just so much honor, when thou yield'st to me
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
[John Donne]
JA MAIDEN'S DENIAL
AY, pish; nay, phew! nay, faith and will you? fie!
A gentleman and use me thus! I'll cry.
Nay, God's body, what means this? Nay, fie for shame,
Nay, faith, away! Nay, fie, you are to blame.
Hark! Somebody comes! hands off, I pray!
I'll pinch, I'll scratch, I'll spurn, I'll run away.
21


Nay, faith, you strive in vain, you shall not speed
You mar my ruff, you hurt my back, I bleed.
Look how the door stands ope, somebody sees!
Your buttons scratch, in fajth you hurt my knees.
What will men say? Lord, what a coil is here!
You make me sweat; i' faith, here's goodly gear.
Nay, faith, let me entreat you, if you list;
You mar my clothes, you tear my smock, but, had I wist
So much before, I would have shut you out.
Is it a proper thing you go about?
I did not think you would have used me this,
But now I see I took my aim amiss,
A little thing would make me not be friends:
You've used me well! I hope you'll make amends.
Hold still, I'll wipe your face, you sweat amain:
You have got a goodly thing with all your pain.
Alas! how hot am I! what will you drink?
If you go sweating down what will men think?
Remember, sir, how you have used me now;
Doubtless ere long I will be meet with you.
If any man but you had used me so,
Would I have put it up? in faith, sir, no.
Nay, go not yet; stay here and sup with me,
And then at cards we better shall agree.
[Anonymous]
22


an_immortal_anthology (104)-6.jpg

fA CANDLE
HERE is a thing which in the light
Is seldom used, but in the night
It serves the maiden female crew,
The ladies, and the good-wives too;
They use to take it in their hand,
And then it will uprightly stand;
And to a hole they it apply,
Where by its good will it would die,
It spends, goes out, and still within
It leaves its moisture thick and thin.
[Sir John Suckling]
23


C^£ PROFERRED LOVE REJECTED
v_J/,T is not four years ago,
I offered forty crowns
To lie with her a night or so:
She answered me in frowns.
Not two years since, she meeting me
Did whisper in my ear,
That she would at my service be,
If I contented were.
I told her I was cold as snow,
And had no great desire;
But should be well content to go
To twenty, but no higher.
Some three months since or thereabout,
She that so coy had been,
Bethought herself and found me out,
And was content to sin.
I smiled at that, and told her I
Did think it something late,
And that I'd not repentance buy
At above half the rate.
24


This present morning early she
Forsooth came to my bed,
And gratis there she offered me
Her high-prized maidenhead.
I told her that I thought it then
Far dearer than I did,
When I at first the forty crowns
For one night's lodging bid.
[Sir John Suckling]
UPON A. M.
OZ^IEL-D all, my love; but be withal as coy,
As if thou knew'st not how to sport and toy:
The fort resigned with ease, men cowards prove
And lazy grow. Let me besiege my love,
Let me despair at least three times a day,
And take repulses upon each essay:
If I but ask a kiss, straight blush as red
As if I tempted for thy maidenhead:
Contract thy smiles, if that they go too far;
And let thy frowns be such as threaten war.
That face which nature sure never intended
25


Should e'er be marred, because't could
ne'er be mended,
Take no corruption from thy grandame Eve;
Rather want faith to save thee, than believe
Too soon: for, credit me, 'tis true,
Men most of all enjoy, when least they do.
[Sir John Suckling]
OF A PURITAN
Vjj/J WAS a puritanical lad
that was called Mathyas,
And he would go to Amsterdam
to speak with Ananyas.
He had not gone past half a mile,
but he met his holy sister;
He laid his bible under her breech,
and merrily he kissed her.
"Alas! what would the wicked say?"
quoth she, "if they had seen it!
My buttocks they lie too low: I wish
apocrypha were in it!"
"But peace, sweetheart, or ere we part,—
26


I speak it out of pure devotion—
By yea and nay I'll not away
till thou feel my spirit's motion."
They huft and puft with many hues,
till that they both were tired,
"Alas!" quoth she, "you'll spoil the leaves;
my petticoat's all mired!
If we professors should be known
to the English congregation
Either at Leyden or Amsterdam,
it would disgrace our nation;
"But since it is that part we must,
tho' I am much unwilling,
Good brother, let's have the t'other thrust,
and take thee this fine shilling
To bear thy charges as thou goest,
and passage o'er the ocean."
Then down she laid, and since 'tis said,
she quenched his spirit's motion.
[Anonymous]
27


 

Wherein two beagles trampled,
And raised a lively pricket.
They hunted there with pleasant noise
About the pleasant mountain,
Till he by heat was forced to fly,
And skip into the fountain.
The beagles followed to the brink,
And there at him they barked;
He plunged about, but would not shrink;
His coming forth they waited.
Then forth he came, as one half lame,
Were weary, faint, and tired;
And laid him down betwixt her legs,
As help he had required.
The beagles being refreshed again,
My love from sleep bereaved;
She dreamed she had me in her arms,
And she was not deceived.
[Anonymous]
29


THE MARIGOLD
vJr5C>OWN in a garden sat my dearest love,
Her skin more soft than down of swan,
More tender-hearted than the turtle dove
And far more kind than bleeding pelican.
I courted her; she rose and blushing said,
"Why was I born to live and die a maid?"
With that I plucked a pretty marigold,
Whose dewy leaves shut up when day is done:
"Sweeting," I said, "arise, look and behold,
A pretty riddle I'll to thee unfold:
These leaves shut in as close as cloistered nun,
Yet will they open when they see the sun."
"What mean you by this riddle, sir?" she said;
"I pray expound it." Then I thus begun:
"Are not men made for maids and maids for men?"
With that she changed her colour and grew wan.
"Since that this riddle you so well unfold,
Be you the sun, I'll be the marigold."
[Anonymous]
30


RIDING TO LONDON
Ct^VdIDING to London, on Dunstable way
I met with a maid on midsummer day,
Her eyes they did sparkle like stars in the sky,
Her face it was fair, and her forehead was high:
The more I came to her, the more I did view her,
The better I liked her pretty sweet face,
I could not forbear her, but still I drew near her,
And then I began to tell her my case:
Whither walk'st thou, my pretty sweet soul?
She modestly answered to Hockley-i'th'-hole,
I asked her her business; she had a red cheek,
She told me, she went a poor service to seek;
I said, it was pity she should leave the city,
And settle herself in a country town;
She said it was certain it was her hard fortune
To go up a maiden, and so to come down.
With that I alighted, and to her I stepped,
I took her by the hand, and this pretty maid wept;
Sweet, weep not, quoth I: I kissed her soft lip;
I wrung her by the hand, and my finger she nipped;
So long there I wooed her, such reasons I shewed her,
That she my speeches could not control,
31


But curtsied finely, and got up behind me,
And back she rode with me to Hockley-i'th'-hole.
When I came to Hockley at the Sign of the Cock,
By a lighting I chanced to see her white smock,
It lay so alluring upon her round knee,
I called for a chamber immediately;
I hugged her, I tugged her, I kissed her, I smugged her,
And gently I laid her down on a bed,
With nodding and pinking, with sighing and winking,
She told me a tale of her maidenhead.
While she to me this story did tell,
I could not forbear, but on her I fell;
I tasted the pleasure of sweetest delight,
We took up our lodging, and lay there all night;
With soft arm she rolled me, and ofttimes told me,
She loved me dearly, even as her own soul:
But on the next morrow we parted with sorrow,
And so I lay with her at Hockley-i'th'-hole.
[Anonymous]
32


an_immortal_anthology (104)-8.jpg

liL               THE DEBAUCHEE
Vj£ RISE at eleven, I dine about two,
I get drunk before seven, and the next thing I do,
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap,
1 daily about her, and spew in her lap;
There we quarrel and scold till I fall asleep,
When the jilt growing bold, to my pocket does creep;
Then slyly she leaves me, and to revenge the affront,
At once both my lass and money I want.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and drunk
What a coil do I make for the loss of my punk!
I storm, and I roar, and I fall in a rage,
And missing my lass, I fall on my page:
Then crop-sick, all morning i rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yawning till eleven again.
[Earl of Rochester]
33


JTHE IMPERFECT ENJOYMENT
AKED she lay, clasped in my longing arms,
I filled with love, and she all over charms,
Both equally inspired, with eager fire,
Melting through kindness, flaming in desire;
With arms, legs, lips close clinging to embrace,
She clips me to her breast, and sucks me to her face.
The nimble tongue (Love's lesser lightning) played
Within my mouth, and to my thoughts conveyed
Swift orders, that I should prepare to throw,
The all-dissolving thunderbolt below.
My flutt'ring soul, sprung with the pointed kiss,
Hangs hov'ring o'er her balmy limbs of bliss.
But whilst her busy hand would guide that part,
Which should convey my soul up to her heart,
In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er,
Melting in love, such joys ne'er felt before.
A touch from any part of her had don't,
Her hand, her foot, her very locks had charms upon't.
Smiling, she chides in a soft murmuring noise,
And sighs to feel the too too hasty joys;
When with a thousand kisses, wand'ring o'er
My panting breast, and is there then no more?
She cries: All this to Love, and raptures due,
Must we not pay a debt to pleasure too?
34


But I the most forlorn, lost man alive,
To show my wished obedience vainly strive,
I sigh alas! and kiss, but cannot drive.
Eager desires, confound my first intent,
Succeeding shame, does more success prevent,
And rage, at last, confirms me impotent.
E'en her fair hand, which might bid heat return
To frozen age, and make cold hermits burn,
Applied to my dead cinder, warms no more,
Than fire to ashes, could past flames restore.
Trembling, confused, despairing, limber, dry,
A wishing, weak, unmoving lump I lie,
This dart of Love, whose piercing point oft tried
With virgin blood, a hundred maids had dyed,
Which Nature still directed with such art,
That it through ev'ry port, reached ev'ry heart;
Stiffly resolved, turned careless I invade,
Where it essayed, nor aught its fury stayed,
Where e'er it pierced, entrance it found or made;
Now languid lies, in this unhappy hour,
Shrunk up, and sapless, like a withered flower.
Thou treacherous, base, deserter of my flame,
False to my passion, fatal to my fame.
By what mistaken magic dost thou prove,
So true to lewdness, so untrue to Love?
35


What oyster, cinder, beggar, common whore,
Didst thou e'er fail in all thy life before?
When vice, disease and scandal led the way,
With what officious haste didst thou obey?
Like a rude-roaring Hector, in the streets,
That scuffles, cuffs, and ruffles all he meets;
But if his king or country, claim his aid,
The rascal villain shrinks and hides his head;
E'en so is thy brutal valor displayed
Breaks ev'ry stews, & does each small crack invade,
But if great Love, the onset does command,
Base recreant to thy prince, thou dost not stand.
Worst part of me, and henceforth hated most,
Through all the town, the common rubbing post;
On whom each wretch relieves her lustful want,
As hogs, on goats, do rub themselves and grunt,
May'st thou to rav'nous shankers be a prey,
Or in consuming weepings waste away.
May stranguries, and stone, thy days attend.
May'st thou not piss, who didst so much offend,
When all my joys, did on false thee depend.
And may ten thousand abler men agree,
To do the wronged Corinna right for thee.
[Earl of Rochester]
36


JA SONG
HILL IS, be gentler, I advise;
Make up for time mis-spent.
When Beauty on its death-bed lies,
Tis high time to repent.
Such is the malice of your fate,
That makes you old so soon;
Your pleasure ever comes too late,
How early e'er begun.
Think what a wretched thing is she,
Whose stars contrive in spite;
The morning of her love should be,
Her fading beauty's night.
Then if, to make your ruin more
You'll peevishly be coy,
Die with the scandal of a whore,
And never know the joy.
[Earl of Rochester]
37


 

«L the mock song
(j6, WENCH as well as others do,
I'm young, nor yet deformed,
My tender heart, sincere and true,
Deserves not to be scorned.
Why Phi 11 is then, why will you trade
With forty lovers more?
Can I (said she) with Nature strive,
Alas I am, alas I am a whore.
Were all my body larded o'er,
With darts of Love so thick,
That you might find in ev'ry pore,
A dart of Love did stick.
Whilst yet alone my eyes were free,
My heart would never doubt,
In am'rous rage and extasy,
To wish those eyes, to wish those eyes
put out.
[Earl of Rochester]
38


JTO HER ANCIENT LOVER
NCIENT person, for whom I
All the flatt'ring youth defy;
Long be it e'er thou grow old,
Aching, shaking, crazy, cold.
But still continue as thou art,
Ancient person of my heart.
On thy withered lips and dry,
Which like barren furrows lie;
Brooding kisses I will pour,
Shall thy youthful heart restore.
Such kind show'rs in Autumn fall,
And a second Spring recall:
Nor from thee will ever part,
Ancient person of my heart.
Thy nobler part, which but to name,
In our sex would be counted shame,
By Age's frozen grasp possessed,
From their ice shall be released:
And, soothed by my reviving hand,
In former warmth and vigour stand.
All a lover's wish can reach,
For thy joy my love shall teach:
39


And for thy pleasure shall improve
All that Art can add to Love.
Yet still I love thee without art,
Ancient person of my heart.
[Earl of Rochester]
Grjy THERE WAS THREE BIRDS
tjy^HERE was three birds that built very low,
The first and the second cried, have at her toe,
The third went merrily in and in, in,
And the third went merrily in;
0 never went wimble in timber more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds that built on a pin,
The first and the second cried, have at her shin,
The third he went merrily in and in, in,
The third he went merrily in;
0 never went wimble in timber more nimble,
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
40


There was three birds that built on a tree,
The first and the second cried, have at her knee,
And the third he went merrily in and in, in,
And the third he went merrily in;
0 never went wimble in timber more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds that built very high,
The first and the second cried, have at her thigh,
The third he went merrily in and in, in,
The third he went merrily in;
0 never went wimble in timber more nimble,
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds that built on a stump,
The first and the second cried, have at her rump,
The third he went merrily in and in, in,
The third he went merrily in;
0 never went wimble in timber more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
[Anonymous]
41


( IFF UNDER THE WILLOW SHADES
I lit
\_/)lJHDER the willow shades they were
Free from the eye-sight of the sun,
For no intruding beam could there
Peep through to spy what things were done:
Thus sheltered they unseen did lie,
Surfeiting on each other's eye;
Defended by the willow shades alone,
The sun's heat they defied and cooled
their own.
Whilst they did embrace unspied,
The conscious willow seemed to smile,
That them with privacy supplied,
Holding the door, as 'twere, the while;
And when their dalliances were o'er,
The willows, to oblige them more,
Bowing, did seem to say, as they withdrew,
"We can supply you with a cradle too."
[Anonymous]
42


(fh\ A PURITAN
cJ JL PURITAN of late,
And eke a holy Sister,
A catechizing sate,
And fain he would have kissed her
For his mate.
But she a babe of grace,
A child of reformation
Thought kissing a disgrace,
A limb of profanation
In that place.
43


He swore by yea and nay
He would have no denial,
The spirit would it so,
She should endure a trial
Ere she go.
Why swear you so, quoth she?
Indeed, my holy Brother,
You might have forsworn be
Had it been to another,
Not to me.
He laid her on the ground,
His spirits fell a working,
Her zeal was in a sound,
He edified her merkin
Upside down.
And when their leave they took,
And parted were asunder
My Muse did then awake,
And I turned ballad-monger.
For their sake.
[Anonymous]
44


( jFT maid a bathing
VyXiPON a Summer's day,
'Bout middle of the morn,
I spied a lass that lay
Stark naked as she was born;
'Twas by a running pool,
Within a meadow green,
And there she lay to cool,
Not thinking to be seen.
Then did she by degrees
Wash every part in rank,
Her arms, her breasts, her thighs,
Her belly, and her flank;
Her legs she opened wide,
My eyes I let down steal,
Until that I espied
Dame Nature's privy seal.
I stripped me to the skin,
And boldly stepped unto her,
Thinking her love to win,
I thus began to woo her:
Sweetheart, be not so coy,
Time's sweet in pleasures spent,
' 45


She frowned, and cried, away.
Yet smiling, gave consent.
Then blushing, down she slid,
Seeming to be amazed,
But heaving up her head,
Again she on me gazed;
I seeing that, lay down,
And boldly 'gan to kiss,
And she did smile, and frown,
And so fell to our bliss.
Then lay she on the ground
As though she had been sped,
As women in a swoon,
Yield up, and yet not dead:
So did this lively maid,
When hot blood filled her vein.
And coming to herself, she said,
I thank you for your pain.
[Anonymous]
46


Ml ALEXIS LAY PRESSED
HILST Alexis lay pressed
In her arms he loved best,
With his hands round her neck,
And his head on her breast,
He found the fierce pleasure too hasty to stay,
And his soul in the tempest just flying away.
When Celia saw this,
With a sigh, and a kiss,
She cried, Oh my dear, I am robbed of my bliss;
Tis unkind to your Love, and unfaithfully done,
To leave me behind you, and die all alone.
The Youth, though in haste,
And breathing his last,
In pity, died slowly, while she died more fast;
Till at length she cried, Now, my dear, let us go,
Now die my Alexis, and I will die too.
Thus entranced they did lie,
Till Alexis did try
To recover new breath, that again he might die:
Then often they died; but the more they did so,
The Nymph died more quick, and the Shepherd
more slow.
[John Dryden]
47



 

J^                         SONG
YLVIA the fair, in the bloom of fifteen
Felt an innocent warmth, as she lay on the green:
She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed
By the towzing and tumbling and touching her breast:
She saw the men eager, but was at a loss,
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.
48


Ah! she cried, ah! for a languishing maid
In a country of Christians to die without aid
Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Protestant parson or Catholic priest
To instruct a young virgin that is at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.
Cupid in shape of a swain did appear,
He saw the sad wound, and in pity drew near,
Then showed her his arrow, and bid her not fear,
For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear;
When the balm was infused, she was not at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.
[John Dryden]
49


CALM WAS THE EVENING
vC/ALM was the evening, and clear was the sky,
And the new budding flowers did spring,
When all alone went Amyntas and I
To hear the sweet nightingale sing.
I sate, and he laid him down by me,
And scarcely his breath he could draw,
But when with a fear,
He began to draw near,
He was dashed with A ha, ha, ha.
He blushed to himself, and lay still for awhile
And his modesty curbed his desire,
But straight I convinced all his fears with a smile,
Which added new flames to his fire,
0  Sylvia, said he, you are cruel,
To keep your poor lover in awe,
Then once more he pressed
With his hands to my breast,
But was dashed with A ha, ha, ha.
1  knew 'twas his passion that caused all his fear,
And therefore I pitied his case,
I whispered him softly, there's nobody here,
And laid my cheek close to his face:
50


But as he grew bolder and bolder,
A shepherd came by us and saw,
And just as our bliss
We began with a kiss;
He burst out with a Ha, Ha, ha, Ha.
[John Dryden]
3 JOHN AND JONE
YOU will give ear,
And harken a while what I shall tell,
I think I must come near,
Or else you cannot hear me well:
It was a maid, as I heard say,
That in her master's chamber lay,
For maidens must it not refuse,
In yeoman's houses they it use
In a truckle bed to lie,
Or in a bed that stands thereby,
Her master and her dame
Would have the maid do the same.
This maid she could not sleep
When as she heard the bedstead creak,
51


When Captain Standish stout
Made his dame cry out You hurt my back,
Fie, she said, you do me wrong,
You lie so sure my breast upon.
But you are such another man,
You'd have me do more than I can;
Fie Master, then quoth honest Jone,
I pray you let my dame alone;
Fie, quoth she, what a coil you keep,
I cannot take no rest nor sleep.
This was enough to make
A maiden sick and full of pain,
For she did fling and kick,
And swore she'd tear her smock in twain;
But now to let you understand,
They kept a man whose name was John,
To whom this maiden went anon,
And unto him she made her moan:
Tell me John, tell me the same,
What does my master to my dame?
Tell me John, and do not lie,
What ails my dame to squeak and cry?
Quoth John, your master he
Doth give your dame a steel at night,
52


And though she finds such fault,
It is her only heart's delight:
And you Jone, for your part,
You would have one with al I your heart;
Yes, indeed, quoth honest Jone,
Therefore to thee I make my moan;
But John if I may be so bold,
Where is there any to be sold?
At London then quoth honest John,
Next market day I'll bring thee one.
What is the price, quoth Jone,
If I should chance to stand in need?
Why twenty shillings, then quoth John
For twenty shillings you may speed;
The maid then went unto her chest,
And fetched him twenty shillings just:
There John, quoth she, here is the coin,
And prithee have me in thy mind,
And, honest John, out of my store
I'll give thee two odd shillings more.
To market then went John,
When he had the money in his purse,
He domineered and swore,
And was as stout as any horse:
53


Some he spent in wine and beer,
And some in cakes and other good cheer,
And some he carried home again
To serve his term another time;
0 John, quoth she, thou't welcome home ;
God-a-mercy, quoth he, gentle Jone;
But prithee John, do let me feel
Hast thou brought me home a steel?
Yes that I have, quoth John,
And then he took her by the hand,
He led her straight into a room
Where she could see nor sun nor moon,
The door to him he straight did clap,
He put the steel into her lap,
And then the maid began to feel,
Cods foot, quoth she, 'tis a goodly steel:
But tell me, John, and do not lie,
What makes these two things hang here by?
0  Jone, to let thee understand
They're the two odd shillings thou put'st in
my hand
(If I had known so much before
1  would have given thee two shillings more.)
[Anonymous]
54


an_immortal_anthology (104)-12.jpg

/I /jb MY MISTRESS
Ca          v)y MISTRESS is a shuttle-cock,
Composed of cork and feather,
Each battledore sets on her dock,
And bumps her on the leather:
But cast her off which way you will,
She will recoil to another still, Fa, la, las
la, la, la.
My Mistress is a tennis ball,
Composed of cotton fine;
She is often struck against the wall,
And banded underline,
55


But if you will her mind fulfill,
You must pop her in the hazard still, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is a nightingale
So sweetly she can sing,
She is as fair as Philomel,
The daughter of a king;
And in the darksome nights so thick
She loves to lean against a p___, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is a ship of war,
With shot discharged at her
The Pope hath inferred many a scar
Even both by wind and water;
But as she grapples, at the last,
She drowns the man, pulls down his mast, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is a virginal,
And little cost will string her:
She's often reared against the wall
For every man to finger,
But to say truth, if you will her please
You must run division on her keys, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is a conny fine,
She's of the softest skin,
56


And if you please to open her,
The best part lies within,
And in her conny-burrow may
Two tumblers and a ferrit play, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is the moon so bright:
I wish that I could win her;
She never walks but in the night,
And bears a man within her,
Which on his back bears pricks and thorns;
And once a month she brings him horns, Fa,.la, la.
My Mistress is a tinder-box,
Would I had such a one;
Her steel endureth many a knock
Both by the flint and stone.
And if you stir the tinder much,
The match will fire at every touch, Fa, la, la.
My Mistress is a Puritan,
She will not swear an oath,
But for to lie with any man,
She is not very loath;
But pure to pure, and there's no sin,
There's nothing lost that enters in, Fa, la, la.
57


But why should I my Mistress call,
A shuttle-cock or bauble,
A ship of war or tennis ball,
Which things be variable?
But to commend I'll say no more,
My Mistress is an arrant whore, Fa, la, la,
la, la, la.
[Anonymous]
bL I>D HAVE Y0U
Vj6/D HAVE you, quoth he,
Would you have me, quoth she,
0 where, Sir?
In my chamber, quoth he,
In your chamber, quoth she,
Why there, Sir?
To kiss you, quoth he,
To kiss me, quoth she
0 why, Sir?
'Cause I love it, quoth he,
Do you love it? quoth she
So do I, Sir.
[Anonymous]
58


an_immortal_anthology (104)-13.jpg

QA BALLAD OF ALL TRADES
THE Miller, the dusty, musty Miller,
The Miller, that beareth on his back;
He never goes to measure meal,
But his maid, but his maid, but his maid holds
ope the sack.
0 the Baker, the bonny, bonny Baker,
The Baker that is so full of sin;
He never heats his oven hot,
But he thrusts, but he thrusts, but he thrusts
his maiden in.
O the Brewer, the lusty, lusty Brewer,
The Brewer that brews ale and beer;
He never heats his liquor hot,
59


But he takes, but he takes, but he takes his
maid by the geer.
0 the Butcher, the bloody, bloody Butcher,
The Butcher that sells both beef and bone;
He never grinds his slaught'ring knife
But his maid, but his maid, but his maid must
turn his stone.
0 the Weaver, the wicked, wicked Weaver,
That followeth a weary trade;
He never shoots his shuttle right,
But he shoots, but he shoots, but he shoots first
at his maid.
0 the Barber, the neat and nimble Barber,
Whose trade is ne'er the worse;
He never goes to wash and shave,
But he trims, but he trims, but he trims his
maiden first.
0 the Tailor, the fine and frisking Tailor,
The Tailor that gives so good regard;
He never goes to measure lace,
But his maid, but his maid, but his maid holds
out his yard.
60


O the Blacksmith, the lusty, lusty Blacksmith,
The best of all good fellows;
He never heats his iron hot,
But his maid, but his maid, but his maid must
blow the bellows.
0 the Tanner, the merry, merry Tanner,
The Tanner that draws good hides into leather;
He never strips himself to work,
But his maid, but his maid, but his maid and
he's together.
O the Tinker, the sturdy, sturdy Tinker,
The Tinker that deals all in metal;
He never clencheth home a nail,
But his trull, but his trull, but his truli holds
up the kettle.
;[Anonymous]
61


(Sib          DAMON AND CELIA
Lv^HUS Damon knocked at Celia's door,
Thus Damon knocked at Celia's door,
He sighed and begged, and wept and swore
The sign was so, she answered no,
The sign was so, she answered no, no, no, no.
Again he sighed, again he prayed,
No, Damon, no, no, no, no, no, I am afraid;
Consider, Damon, I'm a maid,
Consider, Damon, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
I'm a maid.
At last his sighs and tears made way,
She rose and softly turned the key;
Come in, said she, but do not, do not stay,
I may conclude, you will be rude;
But if you are you may:
I may conclude, you will be rude,
But if you are you may.
[G. Farquhar]
62


TO HIS COY MISTRESS
QJ V)AD we but world enough, and time,
This coyness lady were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should'st rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood:
And you should if you please refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable Love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze.
Two hundred to adore each breast:
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For lady you deserve this state;
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near:
And yonder all before us lie
63


Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity:
And your quaint honour turn to dust;
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our Time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball:
And tear our pleasures with rough strife,
Through the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
[Andrew Marvel I]
64


an_immortal_anthology (104)-14.jpg

3| A PLEASANT BALLAD
N harvest-time I walked
hard by a corn-close side;
I hearing people talk,
I looked about, and spied
A young man and a maid,
together they did lie;
When you hear it told,
you'll laugh full heartily.
She was as buxom a lass
as any in our town;
She will not let you pass,
but she'll call you to sit down.
65


A tailor passing by,
she hit him on the heel;
"You are very welcome, Sir,
to sit you down and feel:
"What money's in my purse
at your command shall be,
If you will go along
to Marston Wake with me."
He hearing her say so,
and seeing her to smile,
Was charmed with her, so
he sat him down a while.
And having groped her purse,
and taken all her money,
He groped again, and missed,
and caught her by the coney.
"Where am I now?" quoth he,
"another have I found;"
"It's not the same," quoth she,
"for this is tufted round.
"If it be tufted round," quoth she,
"there is good reason for't,
Therein such treasure lies
66


will make a tailor sport."
He hearing her say so,
being a frolicsome lad,
Was willing for to know
more of the fringed bag.
With that he eagerly,
to feel put forth his hand.
"Nay, hold, good sir," said she,
"go not before you stand:
Except you take your yard
the depth of it to measure,
You'll find the purse so deep
you'll hardlycome to the treasure."
He hearing her say so,
it put him to a stand;
She seeing him dismayed,
she took his yard in hand;
"Is this your yard," quoth she,
"is this your tailor's measure?
It is too short for me,
it is not standard measure."
The tailor being abashed,
she told him that it was
67


More fitter for a man,
than such a puny ass.
She bids him now be gone,
since he could make no sport,
And said, "thou art too dull
to enter such a fort."
Then looking fiercely at him,
she said, "thou sneaking fool,
Co straight away to Vulcan
and let him mend thy tool.
And tell him that Dame Venus
at him is almost mad,
For sending to her school
such an unfit lad."
You tailors that attempt
fringed bags to measure,
Be sure your yards be sealed,
and of full standard measure.
[Anonymous]
68


MAIDENHEAD
Qt^J-IOU worst estate even of the sex
that's worst;
Therefore by Nature made at first,
T'attend the weakness of our birth!
Sight, outward curtain to the nuptial bed!
Thou case to buildings not yet finished!
Who like the center of the earth,
Dost heaviest things attract to thee,
Though thou a point imaginary be.
A thing God thought for mankind so unfit,
That his first blessing ruined it.
Cold frozen nurse of fiercest fires!
Who, like the parched plains of Africk sand,
(A sterile, and a wild unlovely land)
Art always scorched with hot desires,
Yet barren quite, didst thou not bring
Monsters and serpents forth thy self to sting.
Thou that bewitchest men, whilst thou dost dwell
Like a close conjurer in his cell
And fear'st the day's discovering eye!
No wonder 'tis at all that thou shouldst be
Such tedious and unpleasant company,
69


Who liv'st so melancholily!
Thou thing of subtle, slippery kind,
Which women lose, and yet no man can find.
Although I think thou never found wilt be,
Yet I'm resolved to search for thee;
The search itself rewards the pains.
So, though the chymick his great secret miss,
(For neither it in Art nor Nature is)
Yet things well worth his toil he gains:
And does his charge and labour pay
With good unsought experiments by the way.
Say what thou wilt, chastity is no more
Thee, than a porter is his door.
In vain to honour they pretend,
Who guard themselves with ramparts and
with walls,
Them only fame the truly valiant calls,
Who can an open breach defend.
Of thy quick loss can be no doubt,
Within so hated, and so loved without.
[Abraham Cowley]
70


an_immortal_anthology (104)-15.jpg

fA PRESENT TO A LADY
\DIES, I do here present you
With a token Love has sent you;
Tis a thing to sport and play with,
Such another pretty thing
For to pass the time away with;
Prettier sport was never seen;
Name I will not, nor define it,
Sure I am you may divine it:
By those modest looks I guess it,
That I need no more express it,
And those eyes so full of fire,
But leave your fancies to admire.
71


Yet as much of it be spoken
In the praise of this love-token:
Tis a wash that far surpasses
For the cleansing of your blood,
All the Saints may bless your faces,
Yet not do you so much good.
Were you ne'er so melancholy,
It will make you blithe and jolly;
Go no more, no more admiring,
When you feel your spleen's amiss,
For all the drinks of steel and iron
Never did such cures as this.
It was born in th' Isle of Man
Venus nursed it with her hand,
She puffed it up with milk and pap,
And lulled it in her wanton lap,
So ever since this monster can
In no place else with pleasure stand.
Colossus like, between two rocks,
I have seen him stand and shake his locks,
And when I have heard the names
Of the sweet Saterian Dames,
0 he's a champion for a queen,
Tis pity but he should be seen.
72


Nature, that made him, was so wise,
As to give him neither tongue nor eyes,
Supposing he was born to be
The instrument of jealousy,
Yet here he can, as poets feign,
Cure a lady's love-sick brain.
He was the first that did betray
To mortal eyes the milky way;
He is the Proteus cunning ape
That will beget you any shape;
Give him but leave to act his part,
And he'll revive your saddest heart.
Though he want legs, yet he can stand,
With the least touch of your soft hand;
And though, like Cupid, he be blind,
There's never a hole but he can find;
If by all this you do not know it,
Pray, ladies, give me leave to show it.
[Anonymous]
73


( 1%!/ CORIDON AND PHILLIS
O^OUNG Coridon and Phi 11 is
Sat in a lovely grove;
Contriving crowns of lilies,
Repeating tales of Love:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
But as they were a playing.
She ogled so the swain;
It saved her plainly saying,
Let's kiss to ease our pain:
And something else, but what I dare not name. '
A thousand times he kissed her,
Laying her on the green;
But as he farther pressed her,
Her pretty leg was seen:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
So many beauties viewing,
His ardour still increased;
And greater joys pursuing,
He wandered o'er her breast:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
A last effort she trying,
His passion to withstand;
74


Cried, but it was faintly crying,
Pray, take away your hand:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
Young Coridon grew bolder,
The minute would improve;
This is the time he told her,
To shew you how I love;
And something else, but what I dare not name.
The Nymph seemed almost dying,
Dissolved in amorous heat;
She kissed, and told him sighing,
My dear, your Love is great:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
But Phi 11 is did recover
Much sooner than the swain;
She blushing asked her lover,
Shall we not kiss again:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
Thus Love his revels keeping,
Till Nature at a stand;
From talk they fell to sleeping,
Holding each other's hand:
And something else, but what I dare not name.
[Sir Charles Sedley]
75


an_immortal_anthology (104)-16.jpg

J^ SUSANNAH AND THE ELDERS
USANNAH the fair
With her beauties all bare,
Was bathing her, was bathing herself
in an arbour:
The Elders stood peeping,
And pleased with the dipping,
Would fain have steered into her harbour.
But she in a rage,
Swore she'd never engage,
With monsters, with monsters, with monsters
so old and so feeble.
This caused a great rout,
Which had ne'er come about,
Had the Elders been sprightly and able.
[Anonymous]
16


(mil A YOUNG MAN AND A MAID
Cs JL YOUNG man and a maid, put in all, put in all
Together lately played, put in all;
The young man was in jest,
0 the maid she did protest:
She bid him do his best, put in all, put in all.
With that her rolling eyes, put in all, put in all,
Turned upward to the skies, put in all;
My skin is white you see,
My smock above my knee,
What would you more of me, put in all, put in all.
1  hope my neck and breast, put in all, put in all,
Lie open to your chest, put in all,
The young man was in heat,
The maid did soundly sweat,
A little farther get, put in all, put in all.
According to her will, put in all, put in all,
This young man tried his skill, put in all;
But the proverb plain does tell,
That use them ne'er so well,
For an inch they'd take an ell, put in all, put in all.
77


When they had ended sport, put in all, put in all,
She found him all too short, put in all;
For when he'd done his best,
The maid she did protest,
Twas nothing but a jest, put in all, put in all.
[Anonymous]
{ l$l STREPHON AND PHILLIS
O/^OUNG Strephon and Phillis,
They sat on a hill;
But the shepherd was wanton,
And would not sit still:
His head on her bosom,
And arms round her waist;
He hugged her, and kissed her,
And clasped her so fast:
Till playing and jumbling,
At last they fell tumbling;
And down they got 'em,
But oh, they fell soft
On the grass at the bottom.
As the shepherdess tumbled,
The rude wind got in,
78


And blew up her clothes,
And her smock to her chin:
The shepherd he saw
The bright Venus, he swore,
For he knew her own dove,
By the feathers she wore:
Till furious love sallying,
At last he fell dallying,
And won, down he got him,
But oh! oh! how sweet,
And how soft at the bottom.
The Shepherdess blushing,
To think what she'd done;
Away from the shepherd,
She fain would have run;
Which Strephon perceiving,
The wand'rer did seize;
And cried do be angry,
Fair Nymph if you please:
Tis too late to be cruel,
Thy frowns my dear jewel,
Now no more stings have got 'em,
For oh ! Thou'rt all kind,
And all soft at the bottom.
[Anonymous]
79


JTHE QUAKER'S SONG
MONCST the pure ones all,
Which Conscience doth profess;
And yet that sort of Conscience,
Doth practice nothing less:
I mean the sect of those elect,
That loathe to live by merit;
That lead their lives with other men's wives,
According unto the Spirit.
One met with a Holy Sister of ours,
A Saint who dearly loved him:
And fain he would have kissed her,
80


Because the Spirit moved him:
But she denied, and he replied,
You're damned unless you do it;
Therefore consent, do not repent,
For the Spirit doth move me to it.
She not willing to offend, poor soul,
Yielded unto his motion;
And what these two did intend,
Was out of pure devotion;
To lie with a friend and a brother,
She thought she should die no sinner,
But e'er five months were past,
The Spirit was quick within her.
But what will the wicked say,
When they shall hear of this rumour;
They'd laugh at us every day,
And scoff us in every corner:
Let 'em do so still if that they will,
We mean not to follow their fashion,
They're none of our sect, nor of our elect,
Nor none of our congregation.
But when the time was come,
That she was to be laid;
81


It was no very great crime,
Committed by her they said:
'Cause they did know, and she did show,
Twas done by a friend and a brother,
But.a very great sin they said it had been,
If it had been done by another.
[Anonymous]
(~)%l A LAMENTABLE CASE
qZ-^E FAMED physicians of this place,
Hear Strephon's and poor Chloe's case
Nor think that I am joking;
When she would, he cannot comply,
When he would drink, she's not a-dry;
And is not this provoking?
At night, when Strephon comes to rest,
Chloe receives him on her breast,
With fondly folding arms:
Down, down he hangs his drooping head,
Falls fast asleep, and lies as dead,
Neglecting all her charms.
Reviving when the morn returns,
With rising flames young Strephon burns,
82


And then, would fain be doing:
But Chloe, now asleep or sick,
Has no great relish for the trick,
And sadly balks his wooing.
0 cruel and disastrous case,
When in the critical embrace
That only one is burning!
Dear Doctors, set this matter right;
Give Strephon spirits over night,
Or Chloe in the morning.
[Sir Charles Hanbury-Williams]
JTHE WEE ONE
SLEE one, a slee one,
1  neere saw sic a slee one;
The first night that I with him lay,
Oh, then he got this wee one.
This wee one, this wee one,
This bonny winking wee one,
I'de bin a maid amongst the rest
Wer't not I got this wee one.
[Anonymous]
83


J                                  LOVE'S FOLLIES
'AY out upon this fooling for shame
Nay pish, nay fie, in faith you are to blame;
Nay come, this fooling must not be;
Nay pish, nay fie, you tickle me.
Nay out upon't, in faith I dare not do't;
I'll bite, I'll scratch, I'll squeak, I'll cry out;
Nay come, this fooling must not be;
Nay pish, nay fie, you tickle me.
Your buttons scratch me, you ruffle my band,
You hurt my thighs, pray take away your hand;
The door stands ope that all may see,
Nay pish, nay fie, you tickle me.
When you and I shall meet in a place
Both together face to face,
I'll not cry out, nay you shall see,
Nay pish, nay fie, you tickle me.
But now I see my words are but vain,
For I have done, why should I complain?
Nay to't again, the way is free,
Since it's no more, pray tickle me.
[Anonymous]
84
1                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               ■


an_immortal_anthology (104)-17.jpg

Ml AN IMITATION OF CHAUCER
OMEN ben full of ragerie,
Yet swinken not sans secresie,
Thilke moral shall ye understond,
From schoole-boy's tale of fayre Irelond;
Which to the fennes hath him betake,
To filche the grey ducke fro the lake.
Right then there passen by the way
His aunt, and eke her daughters tway.
Ducke in his trowses hath he bent,
Not to be spied of ladies gent,
But ho! our nephew, crieth one;
Ho! quoth another, Cozen John;
And stoppen, and lough, and callen out—
85


This selyClerke full low doth lout:
They asken that, and talken this,
Lo, here is Coz, and here is Miss.
But, as he glozeth with speeches soote,
The Ducke sore tickleth his Erse-roote:
Four-piece and buttons all-to-brest,
Forth thrust a white neck and red crest,
Te-hee, cried ladies; clerke nought spake;
0  Moder, Moder! quoth the Daughter,
Be thilke same thing Maids logen a'ter?
Better is to pine on coals and chalke,
Then trust on Mon whose yerde can talke.
[Alexander Pope]
Jjjf THE JOLLY TRADES-MEN
OMETIMES I am a Tapster new,
And skillful in my trade, Sir,
1  fill my pots most duly,
Without deceit or froth, Sir:
A spicket of two handfuls long,
I use to occupy, Sir:
And when I set a butt abroach,
Then shall no beer run by, Sir.
86


Sometimes I am a Butcher,
And then I feel fat ware Sir;
And if the flank be fleshed well,
I take no farther care Sir:
But in I thrust my slaughtering-knife,
Up to the haft with speed Sir,
For all that ever I can do,
I cannot make it bleed Sir.
Sometimes I am a Baker,
And bake both white and brown Sir;
I have as fine a wriggling-pole,
As any is in all this town Sir:
But if my oven be over-hot,
I dare not thrust it in Sir;
For burning of my wriggling-pole,
My skill's not worth a pin Sir.
Sometimes I am a Glover,
And can do passing well Sir;
in dressing of a doe-skin,
I know I do excel Sir:
But if by chance a flaw I find,
In dressing of the leather;
I straightway whip my needle out,
And I tack 'em close together.
87


Sometimes I am a Cook,
And in Fleet-Street I do dwell Sir:
At the sign of the Sugar-loaf,
As it is known full well Sir:
And if a dainty lass comes by,
And wants a dainty bit Sir;
I take four quarters in my arms,
And put them on my spit Sir.
In weavering and fulling,
I have such passing skill Sir;
And underneath my weavering-beam,
There stands a fulling-mill Sir:
To have good wives' displeasure,
I would be very loath Sir;
The water runs so near my hand;
It over-thicks my cloth Sir.
Sometimes I am a Shoemaker,
And work with silly bones Sir;
To make my leather soft and moist,
1 use a pair of stones Sir:
My lasts for and my lasting sticks,
Are fit for every size Sir;
I know the length of lasses' feet,
By handling of their thighs Sir.
88


The Tanner's trade I practice,
Sometimes amongst the rest Sir;
Yet I could never get a hair,
Of any hide I dressed Sir,
For I have been tanning of a hide,
This long seven years and more Sir;
And yet it is as hairy still,
As ever it was before Sir.
Sometimes I am a Tailor,
And work with thread that's strong Sir;
I have a fine great needle,
About two handfuls long Sir:
The finest sempster in this town,
That works by line or leisure:
May use my needle at a pinch,
And do themselves great pleasure.
[Anonymous]
89


an_immortal_anthology (104)-18.jpg

But spend in prayer each fleeting day.
Close in her cell immured she lies,
Nor from the Cross removes her eyes;
Whilst sisters crowding at the grate,
Spend all their time, spend all their time
In worldly prate.
The abbess, overjoyed to find
This happy change in Jenny's mind,
The rest, with air composed, addressing,
"Daughters, if you expect a blessing,
From pious Jane, example take,
The world, and all its joys forsake."
"We will" [they all replied as one]
"But first let's do as Jane has done."
[John Lockman]
OjjWhlE SCHOOLMASTER
\JZ. WILL fly into your arms,
And smother you with kisses,
I will rifle all your charms,
And teach you am'rous blisses,
For it is my concern,
91


And a means that you should learn,
The pranks of other Misses.
Don't be coy when I invade,
And kindly yield the blessing,
For it is high time your maidenhead
Were in my possession,
Don't cry out and be a fool,
For if that you come to school
You must peruse your lesson.
Open then the books, my dear,
The leaves shall be separated,
All things that comprehensive are,
Shall soon be penetrated.
Lessons three she had that night,
Taking pleasure with delight,
She begged for more next morning.
Lovely master try again,
Don't so soon forsake me,
For to learn I am in pain
Till you a scholar make me.
Such pretty things you show
The more you teach the more I 'd know,
For now the fit does take me.
92


Never master pleased me more,
To such great perfection,
And of all the schools I'm sure,
Kind is your correction,
For whenever you give the same
Never a scholar can you blame,
Tis done with such affection.
Open then my leaves so fair,
And kindly to me show, Sir,
What knowledge is, how sweet, how rare,
And what 1 long to know, Sir,
Cupid tells me very plain,
That your learning is not vain,
But useful as his bow, Sir.
When he was departing then,
She said with kind expression,
When will you, pray Sir, come again.
And teach me t'other lesson?
He replied with great delight,
My dear, I'll come but ev'ry night,
And think it as a blessing.
Thus each night he does repair
To tell her of her duty,
93


While he's taken in the snare
Shot to the heart by Cupid,
When the school master is Love,
Then the scholars kinder prove
For Love is kin to Beauty.
[Anonymous]
3                              IN A CELLAR AT SODOM
N A cellar at Sodom, at the Sign of the Tot,
Two buxom young harlots were drinking with Lot;
Some say they were his daughters, no matter for that,
They're resolved they would souse their old dad with
All flustered and bousy, the doting old sot, [a pot;
As great as a monarch between 'em was got;
Till the eldest and wisest thus opened the plot,
Pray show us dear daddy how we were begot;
Codzooks, you young jades, 'twas the first oath I wot,
The devil of a serpent this humor has taught;
No matter, they cried, you shall pawn for the shot,
Unless you will show us how we were begot.
[Anonymous]
94


an_immortal_anthology (104)-19.jpg

JTHE DISAPPOINTED MAID
S DOLLY and her favorite swain
Were interrupted by the rain,
From tedding out the fragrant hay;
Beneath a sheltering cock they lay:
When thus the lovely, longing jade,
Unto the drowsy shepherd said,
Nay, prithee Lobby, why so sleepy?
Indeed, upon my word I'll nip ye.—
How pretty might we sit and chat,
Tell o'er old stories, and all that—
But you—0 Lord, the careless beast!
As if folks lie down to take rest.
Lob, half asleep, made no replies,
Or answered with a grunt her sighs.
95


While she to be revenged, arose,
And played a tickler on his nose.
(But some, the virgin to disgrace,
Will say, 'twas in another place.)
Be that as 'twill, she waked the swain,
And tickled him with words again.
Come, sweeting, Lobby, come my dear,
I'm sure that nobody is near;
Indeed we may, pray ben't afraid,
Poor I am, but an harmless maid.
For since you're so disposed to rest,
Pray take a nap upon my breast.
You see time, leisure, place, and all
For such enjoyment seem to call.
And you remember people say,
When the sun shines, then make your hay.
Augh! Augh! quoth Lob, waked with surprise,
To see the sun flame in his eyes.
Heigh Hoa! come Doll, for as you say,
The sun shines, we must make our hay:
So reach me there my rake and prong,
'Twas well you waked—we've slept too long.
[William Pattison]
96


HOW CAN I KEEP MY
MAIDENHEAD?
CJ v)OW can I keep my maidenhead,
My maidenhead, my maidenhead,
How can I keep my maidenhead,
Among sae mony men, 0?
The Captain bad a guinea for't,
A guinea for't, a guinea for't;
The Captain bad a guinea for't,
The Colonel he bad ten, 0.
But I'll do as my minnie did,
My minnie did, my minnie did;
But I'll do as my minnie did,
For siller I'll hae nane, 0.
I'll gie it to a bonnie lad,
A bonnie lad, a bonnie lad,
I'll gie it to a bonnie lad,
For just as good again, 0.
[Anonymous]
97


Grjfc               PALLAS AND VENUS
Ci/^HE Trojan swain had judged the great dispute,
And beauty's power obtained the golden fruit;
When Venus, loose in all her naked charms,
Met Jove's great daughter clad in shining arms.
The wanton goddess viewed the warlike maid
From head to foot, and tauntingly she said:
Yield, sister; rival, yield: naked, you see,
I vanquish: guess how potent I should be,
If to the field I came in armour dressed;
Dreadful, like thine, my shield, and terrible my crest!
The warrior goddess with disdain replied:
Thy folly, child, is equal to thy pride:
Let a brave enemy for once advise,
And Venus (if 'tis possible) be wise.
Thou to be strong must put off every dress;
Thy only armour is thy nakedness:
And more than once, (or thou art much belied)
By Mars himself that armour has been tried.
[Matthew Prior]
98


an_immortal_anthology (104)-20.jpg

(fj/(\ PRESBYTERIAN WEDDING
Cx i£ CERTAIN Presbyterian pair
Were wedded t'other day;
And when in bed the lambs were laid,
Their pastor came to pray.
But first he bade each guest depart,
Nor sacred rites profane;
For carnal eyes such mysteries
Can never entertain.
Then with a Puritanic air,
Unto the Lord he prayed,
That he would please to grant encrease
To that same man and maid:
99


And that the husbandman might dress
Full well the vine his wife;
And like a vine she still might twine
About him all her life.
Sack Posset then he gave them both,
And said with lifted eyes,
Blessed of the Lord! with one accord
Begin your enterprise.
The bridegroom then drew near his spouse,
T'apply prolific balm;
And while they strove in mutual love,
The Parson sang a psalm.
[Anonymous]
as i sat at
ut/jImy spinning-wheel
Cy JlS I SAT at my spinning-wheel,
A bonny lad there passed by,
I kenned him round, and I liked him weel,
Good faith he had a bonny eye:
My heart new panting, 'gan to fee!,
But still I turned my spinning-wheel.
100


Most gracefully he did appear,
As he my presence did draw near,
And round about my slender waist
He clasped his arms, and me embraced:
To kiss my hand he down did kneel,
As I sat at my spinning-wheel.
My milk white hand he did extol,
And praised my fingers long and small,
And said, there was no lady fair,
That ever with me could compare:
Those pleasing words my heart did feel,
But still I turned my spinning-wheel.
Altho' I seemingly did chide,
Yet he would never be denied,
But did declare his love the more,
Until my heart was wounded sore;
That my love could scarce conceal,
But yet I turned my spinning-wheel.
As for my yarn, my rock and reel,
And after that my spinning-wheel,
He bid me leave them all with speed
And gang with him to yonder mead:
My panting heart strange flames did feel
Yet still I turned my spinning-wheel.
101


He stopped and gazed, and blithely said,
Now speed the wheel, my bonny maid,
But if thou'st to the hay-cock go,
I'll learn thee better work I trow,
Good faith, I liked him passing weel,
But still I turned my spinning-wheel.
He lowly veiled his bonnet off,
And sweetly kissed my lips so soft;
Yet still between each honey kiss,
He urged me on to farther bliss:
Till I resistless fire did feel,
Then let alone my spinning-wheel.
Among the pleasant cocks of hay,
Then with my bonny lad I lay,
What damsel ever could deny,
A youth with such a charming eye?
The pleasure I cannot reveal,
It far surpassed the spinning-wheel.
[Anonymous]
102


an_immortal_anthology (104)-21.jpg

fTHE GALLANT SCHEMER'S PETITION
THE mole on your bubbies so round and so white,
By the mole on your neck, where my arms would delight,
By what-ever mole else you have got out of sight,
I pr'ythee now hear me, dear Molly.
By the kiss just a-starting from off your moist lips,
By the delicate up-and-down jott of your hips,
By the tip of your tongue, which all tongues out-tips
I pr'ythee now hear me, dear Molly.
By the down on your bosom on which my soul dies,
By the thing of all things which you love as your eyes,
103


By the thoughts you lie down with, & those when you rise,
I pr'ythee now hear me, dear Molly.
By ail the soft pleasures a virgin can share,
By the critical minute no virgin can bear,
By the question I burn for to ask, but don't dare,
I pr'ythee now hear me, dear Molly.
[Anonymous]
(n(\ THE PACK-SADDLE
dJ Jl FAMOUS painter, jealous of his wife,
Whose charms he valued more than fame or life,
When going on a journey used his art,
To paint an ass upon a certain part,
(Umbilical, 'tis said) and like a seal:
Impressive token, nothing thence to steal.
A brother brush, enamoured of the dame,
Now took advantage, and declared his flame:
The Ass effaced, but God knows how 'twas done;
Another soon howe'er he had begun,
And finished well, upon the very spot;
In painting, few more praises ever got;
104


But want of recollection made him place
A saddle, where before he none could trace.
The husband, when returned, desired to look
At what he drew, when leave he lately took.
Yes, see my dear, the wily wife replied,
The Ass is witness, faithful I abide.
Zounds! said the painter, when he got a sight,—
What!—you'd persuade me ev'ry thing is right?
I wish the witness you display so well,
And him who saddled it, were both in hell.
[Jean de la Fontaine]
wOl THE dress-maker
Cy JLCLOISTERED nun had a lover
Dwelling in the neighb'ring town;
Both racked their brains to discover
How they best their love might crown.
The swain to pass the convent-door!—
No easy matter!—Thus they swore,
And wished it light.—I ne'er knew nun
In such a pass to be outdone:—
105


In woman's clothes the youth must dress,
And gain admission. I confess
The ruse has oft been tried before,
But it succeeded as of yore;
Together in a close barred cell
The lovers were, and sewed all day.
Nor heeded how time flew away.—
"What's that I hear? Refection bell!
" 'Tis time to part, Adieu!—Farewell!—"
"How's this?" exclaimed the abbess, "why
"The last at table?"—Madam, I
"Have had my dress-maker."—"The rent
"On which you've both been so intent
"Is hard to stop, for the whole day
"To sew and mend, you made her stay;
"Much work indeed you've had to do!"
"Madam,'twould last the whole night through;
"When in our task we find enjoyment
"There is no end of the employment."
[Jean de la Fontaine]
106


<jf^\\ THE PIPE OF LOVE
V_XNE primrose time, a maiden brown,
Wishing for what we will not say,
By side of shepherd sat her down,
And softly asked him, would he play?
Mild shone the sun through red-streak morn,
And glist'ning dew-drops pearled the grass;
The rustic, stretched beneath the thorn,
Grinning, replied—I'll please thee, Lass.
All on the greenfield's turfy bed,
Smiling, the fond one fell along;
The thick-leaf shade her face o'erspread,
While, lisping, she began this song:—
"Tis Love which gives life holidays,
"And Love, I'll always take thy part;
"My shepherd's pipe so sweetly plays,
"It finds the way to win my heart.
"The ladies dressed with silks so fine,
"In golden chains to visits go;
"On costly dishes they can dine,
"And ev'ry night see ev'ry show;
"Yet, if 'tis true what I've heard speak,
"Those high degrees lead lonely lives;
107


"Husbands are wilful, husbands weak,
"And seldom pipe to please their wives."
Blue broke the clouds, the day yet young,
The flowers fragrant filled the breeze;
Wanton the lass, half whisp'ring, sung,
Yes, shepherd,—once more if you please.
Awaking from embraced delight,
She heard her dame, and dared not stay;
They kiss, they part, but first—at night,
She charged him come again and play.
His team to gear, home hied the loon,
The love-sheared lass blithe bore her pail,
And thus she gave her ditty tune,
Tripping it deftly down the dale;
"Tho' organ pipes play music fine,
"And fountain-pipes folks run to see;
"Tho' thirsty souls love pipes of wine,
"The pipe of love's the pipe for me."
[Anonymous]
108


an_immortal_anthology (104)-22.jpg

Jl                   THE END
API LI 0 the rich, in the hurry of love,
Resolving to wed, to fair Arabell drove;
He made his proposals, he begged she would fix,—
What maid could say no to a new coach-and-six?
Well suppose they were wed, the guests bid, supper done,
The fond pair in bed, and the stocking was thrown:
The bride lay expecting to what this would tend,
Since created a wife, wished to know for what end.
On the velvet peach oft, as the gaudy fly rests,
The bridegroom's lips stopped, on love's pillows,
[her breasts:
109


All amazement, impassive, the heart-heaving fair,
With a sigh seemed to prompt him don't stay too long there.
Round her waist, and round such a waist circling his arms,
He raptures rehearsed on her unpossessed charms.
Says the fair one, and gaped, I hear all you pretend,
But now, for I'm sleepy, pray come to an end.
My love ne'er shall end,'Squire Shadow replied,
But still unattempting, lay stretched at her side:
She made feints, as if something she meant to defend,
But found out, at last, it was all to no end.
In disdain starting up from the impotent boy,
She, sighing, pronounced, there's an end of my joy;
Then resolved this advice to her sex she would send,
Ne'er to wed till they're sure they can wed to some end.
And which end is that? why the end which prevails:
Ploughs, ships, birds, and fishes are steered by their tails;
And tho' man and wife for the head may contend,
I'm sure they're best pleased when they gain t'other end.
The end of our wishes, the end of our wives,
The end of our loves, and the end of our lives,
The end of conjunction, 'twixt mistress and male,
Tho' the head may design, has its end in the tail.
no


Tis time tho' to finish, if aught I intend,
Lest, like a bad husband, I come to no end;
The ending I mean is what none will think wrong,
And that is to make now an end of my song.
[Anonymous]
Cfjj|                     CHASTITY
VJ& WONDER, quoth dame, as her spouse she embraces,
How strumpets can look, how they dare show their faces,
And those wicked wives who from husbands' arms fly;
Lord, where do they think they must go when they die?
But next day, by husband, with 'prentice boy caught,
When she from the bed was to toilet-glass brought,
Her head he held up, with this gentle rebuke—
My dear! you were wishing to know how whores look!
Turn your eyes to that table, at once you will see
What faces jades wear; then, my dear, behold me.
Your features confess the adultress clear,
My visage exhibits how cuckolds appear.
You asked where bad wives go? why, really, my chick,
You must with the rest of them go to Old Nick!
Ill


If Beelzebub don't such damned tenant disown,
For bad wives, he knows, make a hell of their own.
All the world would be wed, if the clergy could show
Any rule in the service to change I for 0:
How happy the union of marriage would prove,
Not long as we live joined, but long as we love.
At his feet she sunk down, sorrow lent her such moans
That resentment was gagged by her tears and her tones.
What could hubby do then? what could then hubby do?
But sympathy struck, as she cried, he cried too.
0 Correggio! could I Sigismunda design
Or exhibit a Magdalen, Cuido, like thine,
1  would paint the fond look which the penitent stole,
That pierced her soft partner, and sunk to his soul!
Transported to doting! he raised the distressed,
And tenderly held her long time to his breast;
On the bed gently laid her, by her gently laid,
And the breach there was closed the same way it
[was made.
[Anonymous]
112


an_immortal_anthology (104)-23.jpg

usO the nameless ma|den
Cy JlmaiD, I dare not tell her name;
For fear I should disgrace her,
Tempted a young man for to come
One night for to embrace her.
When at the door, he made a stop,
He made a stop;
Then she lay still, and snoring cried,
"The latch will up, the latch will up."
This young man, hearing of her words,
Pulled up the latch and entered;
But in the room unfortunately
To her mother's bed he ventured.
When the poor maid was sore afraid,
And almost dead, and almost dead;
113


Then she lay still, and snoring cried,
"To the truckle bed, to the truckle bed."
Unto the truckle bed he went,
But as this youth was a-going,
The unlucky cradle stood in his way,
Which had almost spoiled his wooing.
When after this the maid he spied,
The maid he spied,
Here she lay still, and snoring cried,
"To th'other side, to th'other side."
Unto the other side he went,
To show the love he meant her;
Pulled off his clothes courageously,
And fell to the work he was sent for.
And the poor maid made no reply,
Made no reply,
But she lay still, and snoring cried,
"A little too high, a little too high."
This lusty lover half ashamed,
Of her gentle admonition,
He thought to charge her home again,
As ever a girl could wish him.
"Why now my love, I'm right I know,
I'm right I know."
114


Then she lay still, and snoring cried,
"A little too low, a little too low."
But by mistake, at length this youth
His business so well 'tended,
He hit the mark so cunningly,
He defied all the world to mend it.
"Well now, my love, I'm right I swear,
I'm right I swear,"
Then she lay still, and snoring cried,
"Oh there! just there! Oh there! just there!"
[Anonymous]
i nfl A S0NNET
VJaII/EEPING, murmuring, complaining,
Lost to every gay delight;
Myra, too sincere for feigning,
Fears th' approaching bridal night.
Yet, why impair thy bright perfection?
Or dim thy beauty with a tear?
Had Myra followed my direction,
She long had wanted cause to fear.
[Oliver Goldsmith]
115


'GHw              DID NOT
{jy%zWAS a new feeling—something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not:
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.
She felt my lips' impassioned touch—
Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o'er my burning brow,
"Oh, do you doubt I love you now,"
Sweet soul! I did not.
Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I pressed it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not,
Till—oh! the world has seldom heard
Of lovers who so nearly erred,
And yet, who did not.
[Thomas Moore]
116


an_immortal_anthology (104)-24.jpg

THE GERANIUM
vJS&In THE close covert of a grove,
By nature formed for scenes of love,
Said Susan in a lucky hour,
Observe yon sweet geranium flower;
How straight upon its stalk it stands,
And tempts our violating hands:
Whilst the soft bud as yet unspread,
Hangs down its pale declining head:
Yet, soon as it is ripe to blow,
The stems shall rise, the head shall glow.
Nature, said I, my lovely Sue,
To all her followers lends a clue;
Her simple laws themselves explain,
As links of one continued chain;
117


For her the mysteries of creation,
Are but the works of generation:
Yon blushing, strong, triumphant flower,
Is in the crisis of its power:
But short, alas! its vigorous reign,
He sheds his seed, and drops again;
The bud that hangs in pale decay,
Feels not, as yet, the plastic ray;
To-morrow's sun shall bid him rise,
Then, too, he sheds his seed and dies:
But words, my love, are vain and weak,
For proof, let bright example speak;
Then straight before the wondering maid,
The tree of life I gently laid;
Observe, sweet Sire, his drooping head,
How pale, how languid, and how dead;
Yet, let the sun of thy bright eyes,
Shine but a moment, it shall rise;
Let but the dew of thy soft hand
Refresh the stem, it straight shall stand:
Already, see, it swells, it grows,
Its head is redder than the rose,
Its shrivelled fruit, of dusky hue,
Now glows, a present fit for Sue:
The balm of life each artery fills,
And in o'erflowing drops distills.
118


Oh me! cried Susan, when is this?
What strange tumultuous throbs of bliss!
Sure, never mortal, till this hour,
Felt such emotion at a flower:
Oh, serpent! cunning to deceive,
Sure, 'tis this tree that tempted Eve;
The crimson apples hang so fair,
Alas! what woman could forbear?
Well hast thou guessed, my love, I cried,
It is the tree by which she died;
The tree which could content her,
All nature, Susan, seeks the centre;
Yet, let us still, poor Eve forgive,
It's the tree by which we live;
For lovely woman still it grows,
And in the centre only blows.
But chief for thee, it spreads its charms,
For paradise is in thy arms.—
I ceased, for nature kindly here
Began to whisper in her ear:
And lovely Sue, lay softly panting,
While the geranium tree was planting.
'Till in the heat of amorous strife,
She burst the mellow tree of life.
"Oh, heaven!" cried Susan, with a sigh,
"The hour we taste,—we surely die;
119


Strange raptures seize my fainting frame,
And all my body glows with flame;
Yet let me snatch one parting kiss
To tell my love I die with bliss:
That pleased, thy Susan yields her breath;
Oh! who would live if this be death!"
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
fed         DICK AND KATE
CS JlS KATE was driving home her cows
Last May-day in the morning,
The birds sung sweetly on the boughs,
Bright Sol the hills adorning;
Dick overtook the rosy maid,
With love his bosom glowing,
He caught her round the waist, and said,
"How far, Kate, are you going?"
"I'm going homewards (she replied)
"Then, prythee, do not hold me,
"For should I here with you abide,
"My mother, she will scold me."
But Dick's bewitching artful tongue,
120


With pleasing words o'erflowing,
Soon gained its point, the maid was young,
And thought no more of going.
Beneath an oak's broad chequered shade
Young Cupid saw 'em seated;
And there sly Kate was not afraid
To grant all he entreated.
But while love's meadow, happy Dick,
With nature's scythe was mowing;
She smiling cried, just in the nick,
"How far are you now going?"
[Anonymous]
(jr WOMEN, WINE AND SNUFF
CxjVE me women, wine and snuff
Until I cry out "hold, enough!"
You may do so sans objection
Till the day of resurrection;
For bless my beard they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.
[John Keats]
121


an_immortal_anthology (104)-25.jpg

*J&\B SHARING EVE>S APPLE
A^J^BLUSH not so! 0 blush not so!
Or I shall think you knowing;
And if you smile the blushing while,
Then maidenheads are going.
There's a blush for won't, and a blush for shan't,
And a blush for having done it:
There's a blush for thought and a blush for naught,
And a blush for just begun it.
0 sigh not so! 0 sigh not so!
For it sounds of Eve's sweet pippin;
By these loosened lips you have tasted the pips
And fought in an amorous nipping.
122


Will you play once more at nice-cut-core,
For it only will last our youth out,
And we have the prime of the kissing time,
We have not one sweet tooth out.
There's a sigh for yes, and a sigh for no,
And a sigh for I can't bear it!
0 what can be done, shall we stay or run?
0 cut the sweet apple and share it!
[John Keats]
THE FORNICATOR
(3Z^"0U jovial boys who love the joys,
The blessfu' joys of lovers;
An* dare avow 't wi' dauntless brow,
Whate'er the lass discovers;
1  pray draw near, and you shall hear,
An' welcome in a frater,
I've lately been on quarantine,
A proven Fornicator.
Before the congregation wide,
I past the muster fairly;
123


My handsome Betsey by my side,
We gat our ditty rarely.
My down cast eye, by chance did spy,
What made my mouth to water,
Those iimbs sae clean, where I between
Commenced Fornicator.
Wi' rueful face and signs o' grace,
I paid the buttock hire;
The night was dark, and thro' the park
I cou'dna but convoy her;
A parting kiss, what cou'd I less,
My vows began to scatter;
Sweet Betsey fell, fal lal de ral!
I am a Fornicator.
But, by the sun an' moon I swear,
An' I'll fulfil ilk hair o't,
That while I own a single crown,
She's welcome to a share o't;
My roguish boy, his mother's joy,
An' darling of his pater,
I for his sake the name will take,
A harden'd Fornicator.
[Robert Burns]
124


i ^0HN ANDERS0N' MY J°
vJZOHN Anderson, my jo, John,
I wonder what ye mean,
To lie sae long i' the mornin',
And sit sae late at e'en?
Ye'll bleer a' your een, John,
And why do ye so?
Come sooner to your bed at e'en,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When first that ye began,
Ye had as good a tail-tree
As ony ither man;
But now it's waxen wan, John,
With age it's hangin' low,
And aft requires my helping hand,
And John Anderson, my jo.
When we were young and yauld, John,
We've lain out'owre the dyke,
And 0! it was a fine thing
To see your hurdies fyke;—
To see your hurdies fyke, John,
And strike the risin' blow;
Twas then I liked your chanter-pipe,
John Anderson, my jo.
125


John Anderson, my jo, John,
You're welcome when you please;
It's either in the warm bed,
Or else aboon the claes.
Do ye your part aboon, John,
And trust to me below;
I've twa gae-ups for your gae-down,
John Anderson, my jo.
When ye come on before, John,
See that ye do your best;
When I begin to haud ye,
See that ye grip me fast;
See that ye grip me fast, John,
Until that I cry "Oh!"
Your back shall crack, or I do that,
John Anderson, my jo.
I'm backet like a salmon,
I'm breastit like a swan;
My wyme is like a down-cod,
My waist ye weei may span;
My skin frae tap to tae, John,
Is like the new fa'n snow,
And it's a' for your conveniency,
John Anderson, my jo.
[Robert Burns]
126


 

Cfjl             YOU REMEMBER THE NUTS
vJZn Belfast lived a merchant, a wealthy merchant man,
He had as fine apprentice boy as e'er the sun shone on,
He was proper, tall, and handsome, and everything was right,
He could lie with a pretty girl and kiss her twelve times a night,
The mistress she being standing by, and heard him saying so,
Said, Jack, I hold a wager that you do not perform it so,
The master he being from home that night and all things right,
He slipped into the mistress' chamber and kissed her twelve
[times that night.
One of them was a drowsy one, there was no virtue in,
Which made the mistress for to say you did not the wager win
127


If I did not win the wager as you suppose you like,
I will leave it to my master when he comes home this night.
When the master he came home that night and at his supper sat,
Said Jack unto his master, I wish you'd know a bet,
As your mistress and I was walking down yonder green wood side,
Up on your own mare's back a cluster of nuts I spied.
I said there was a dozen, she said there was but eleven,
I threw them in her apron, and there was five and seven,
Five and seven is a dozen I heard the people say;
So Jack you won the wager if the mistress does you pay.
The mistress she being standing by and heard him saying so,
She gave him down the wager and was glad to get off so;
When the master is from home she's sure to stuff his guts,
She taps him on the shoulder, saying, you recollect the nuts.
[Anonymous]

128


an_immortal_anthology (104)-27.jpg

Jl '                THE JEST
OW tell me a jest/'said the snow-haired king,
'Thy wits are a-gathering wool!"
And he bent the fire of his eye in ire
On the face of the motley fool.
"Nay!" cried the fool as he bent his knee,
"Never may I smile more,
1 have stolen the love of thy lovely queen!"
And he grovelled on the floor;
"Ho!" cried the king in gladsome glee,
C£Ho! ho! What a king of a fool!" quoth he,
JMid the gorgeous court sat the snow-haired king
And he boasted of his fool;
129


He swore the jest was quite the best
He'd heard in all his rule.
"Ha!" cried the king as he slapped his knee,
"Never have I laughed more—
He has stolen my lovely queen, has he?"
Meanwhile in the queen's boudoir—
"Ho!" laughed the fool in gladsome glee,
"Ho! Ho! What a fool of a king!" quoth he.
[Robert J. Shores]
130


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