The End

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The End 

Papillio 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:
All amazement, impassive, the heart-heaving fair,
With a sigh seemed to prompt him don't stay too long there.

All around 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.

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]
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