University of Virginia Library

Cure for Green Sickness,

1702.

As fair Olinda sat beneath a shady Tree,
Much Love I did profer to her, and she the like to me;
But when I kiss'd her lovely Lips, and press'd her to be kind,
She cry'd O no, but I remember, Womens words are Wind.
I hug'd her till her Breath grew short, then farther did intrude,
She scratch'd and struggl'd modestly, and told me I was rude.
I beg'd her Pardon 20 times, and some Concern did feign,
But like a bold presumptuous Sinner did the same again.
At last I did by Dalliance raise the pretty Nymph's Desire,
Our Inclinations equal were, and mutual was our Fire.
Then in the height of Joy she cry'd, O I'm undone I fear
O kill me, stick me; stick me, kill me; kill me quite my Dear.