Naked she lay, claspt in my longing Arms,
I fill'd with Love, and she all over Charms,
Both equally inspir'd, 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) plaid
Within my Mouth, and to my thoughts convey'd
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 busie hand wou'd guide that part
Which shou'd 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're
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?
But I the most forlorne, lost Man alive,
To shew my wisht 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.
Ev'n her fair Hand, which might bid Heat return
To frozen Age, and make cold Hermits burn,
Apply'd to my dead Cinder, warms no more,
Than Fire to Ashes, cou'd past Flames restore.
Trembling, confus'd, despairing, limber, dry,
A wishing, weak, unmoving lump I ly,
This Dart of Love, whose piercing point oft try'd
With Virgin Blood, a hundred Maids has try'd.
Which Nature still directed with such Art,
That it through ev'ry Port, reacht ev'ry Heart.
Stiffly resolv'd, turn'd careless I invade,
Where it essay'd, nor ought its fury staid,
Where e'er it pierc'd, entrance it found or made.
Now languid lies, in this unhappy hour,
Shrunk up, and Sapless, like a wither'd Flow'r.
Thou treacherous, base, deserter of my flame,
False to my passion, fatal to my Fame,
By what mistaken Magick dost thou prove
So true to lewdness, so untrue to Love?
What Oyster, Cinder, Beggar, common Whore,
Didst thou e'er fail in all thy Life before?
When Vice, Disease and Scandal lead 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 displaid
Breaks ev'ry Stews, and 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 Dayes attend.
May'st thou not Piss, who didst so much offend,
When all my joyes did on false thee depend.
And may ten thousand abler Men agree
To do the wrong'd Corinna right for thee.
