The Fourth Volume of the Writings Of the Author of the London-Spy Prose and Verse [by Edward Ward] |
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The Maiden-Dream.
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 | The Fourth Volume of the Writings Of the Author of the London-Spy |  |
The Maiden-Dream.
One Night extended on my Downy Bed,
Melting in am'rous Dreams altho a Maid,
My active Thoughts presented to my View,
A Youth undrest, whose Charming Face I knew;
Strip'd to his Shirt, he sprang to me in white,
Like a kind Bridegrom on the Nuptial Night;
And tho his Linnen Dress Ghost-like appear'd,
He look'd, alass, too harmless to be fear'd:
His wishful Eyes exprest his eager Love,
And twinkled like the brightest Stars above;
Such modest Blushes stain'd his comely Face,
That sure no Virgin Innocence could guess,
By his kind Looks, of e'ery Grace possest,
That he could harbour Evil in his Breast.
Melting in am'rous Dreams altho a Maid,
My active Thoughts presented to my View,
A Youth undrest, whose Charming Face I knew;
Strip'd to his Shirt, he sprang to me in white,
Like a kind Bridegrom on the Nuptial Night;
And tho his Linnen Dress Ghost-like appear'd,
He look'd, alass, too harmless to be fear'd:
His wishful Eyes exprest his eager Love,
And twinkled like the brightest Stars above;
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That sure no Virgin Innocence could guess,
By his kind Looks, of e'ery Grace possest,
That he could harbour Evil in his Breast.
Bless me, said I, Philander, what d'ye mean,
How came you hither, who could let you in?
Undress'd, 'tis Rudeness to approach my Bed,
Consider, dearest Youth, that I'm a Maid;
You'll catch your Death, for Heaven's sake retire,
The Weather's cold and I have got no Fire;
With that, between the Sheets one Leg he thrust,
Mix'd it with mine, and sighing, cry'd I must,
Then clasp'd me in his Arms, I strove to squeak,
But found I had no Pow'r to stir or speak;
My Blood confusedly in its Chanels run,
My Body was all Pulse, my Breath near gone,
My Cheeks inflam'd, distorted were my Eyes,
Whilst My Breast swell'd with Passion and Surprise;
And still when e'er I strove to make a noise,
Something methoughts I felt that stop'd my Voice,
And did at last such Tides of Joy impart,
That glided thro each Vein and fill'd my Heart,
Recall'd my dying Senses back again,
And with a Flood of Pleasure drown'd my Pain.
Thus for a time I lay dissolv'd in Bliss,
As if Translated into Paradise.
But as no drowsy Virgin e'er could find,
Delights so charming, and Youth so kind,
And not awake when of a sudden blest,
With melting Joys too great to be exprest;
So I unable to preserve so strong,
An impress of my Dear Philander long,
Awak'd, much frighted, grop'd about my Bed,
But found, alass, my loving Ariel fled,
And all those lusious Pleasures gone and past,
Which seem'd indeed too exquisite to last,
I mourn'd the loss, yet felt some small remains
of the kind warmth still sporting in my Veins,
That tho my love was vanish'd, yet I vow,
I found my self all o'er I know not how;
Thought I, if working Fancy, in the Night,
Can give me, in a Dream, such sweet Delight,
What must two Lovers in a mutual Flame
Possess, when waking they repeat the same:
Philander, come, for I'm resolv'd to try
The Substance, since the Shadow yields such Joy.
How came you hither, who could let you in?
Undress'd, 'tis Rudeness to approach my Bed,
Consider, dearest Youth, that I'm a Maid;
You'll catch your Death, for Heaven's sake retire,
The Weather's cold and I have got no Fire;
With that, between the Sheets one Leg he thrust,
Mix'd it with mine, and sighing, cry'd I must,
Then clasp'd me in his Arms, I strove to squeak,
But found I had no Pow'r to stir or speak;
My Blood confusedly in its Chanels run,
My Body was all Pulse, my Breath near gone,
My Cheeks inflam'd, distorted were my Eyes,
Whilst My Breast swell'd with Passion and Surprise;
And still when e'er I strove to make a noise,
Something methoughts I felt that stop'd my Voice,
121
That glided thro each Vein and fill'd my Heart,
Recall'd my dying Senses back again,
And with a Flood of Pleasure drown'd my Pain.
Thus for a time I lay dissolv'd in Bliss,
As if Translated into Paradise.
But as no drowsy Virgin e'er could find,
Delights so charming, and Youth so kind,
And not awake when of a sudden blest,
With melting Joys too great to be exprest;
So I unable to preserve so strong,
An impress of my Dear Philander long,
Awak'd, much frighted, grop'd about my Bed,
But found, alass, my loving Ariel fled,
And all those lusious Pleasures gone and past,
Which seem'd indeed too exquisite to last,
I mourn'd the loss, yet felt some small remains
of the kind warmth still sporting in my Veins,
That tho my love was vanish'd, yet I vow,
I found my self all o'er I know not how;
Thought I, if working Fancy, in the Night,
Can give me, in a Dream, such sweet Delight,
124
Possess, when waking they repeat the same:
Philander, come, for I'm resolv'd to try
The Substance, since the Shadow yields such Joy.
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