 | Claraphil and Clarinda |  |
The Adulteress.
Who would have thought Luxuria, when
Thy choise made me the best of Men,
Thou could'st contrive my life's decay,
And wound that heart which once did pay,
A price for thine? What Souls have they,
That do with tears betray?
Thy choise made me the best of Men,
Thou could'st contrive my life's decay,
And wound that heart which once did pay,
A price for thine? What Souls have they,
That do with tears betray?
Thou didst petition me with Prayers,
With blubber'd Eyes, and torn Hairs,
That both our Hearts might joyn in one:
Thou wert so full of melting mone,
For fear thy life should be o'rethrown,
I did destroy my own.
With blubber'd Eyes, and torn Hairs,
That both our Hearts might joyn in one:
Thou wert so full of melting mone,
For fear thy life should be o'rethrown,
I did destroy my own.
Yet she that then did so profess,
Faith, Truth, and Love, knows nothing less;
But all her Bloud with poyson flows,
For in the Bride-bed where the Rose,
And Violets did their sweets disclose,
Henbane, and Hemlock grows.
Faith, Truth, and Love, knows nothing less;
But all her Bloud with poyson flows,
For in the Bride-bed where the Rose,
And Violets did their sweets disclose,
Henbane, and Hemlock grows.
Such Woes are only known in Hell,
My Love had never paralel;
And how I hate, no tongue can tell.
That were the World from women free,
As 'twas at first, my soul should flee
Her salt societie.
My Love had never paralel;
And how I hate, no tongue can tell.
As 'twas at first, my soul should flee
Her salt societie.
I would embrace a Body first,
By Brothels twenty Winters Nurst;
And all the plagues compleatly, curs'd
Whose mortifying breath at ten
Miles distance might destroy strong men,
Ere we would meet agen.
By Brothels twenty Winters Nurst;
And all the plagues compleatly, curs'd
Whose mortifying breath at ten
Miles distance might destroy strong men,
Ere we would meet agen.
Add to my Life ten thousand years,
With health, and treasure, free from fears;
I would not have them to be Hers:
Nay should afflicting Furies frame
A fire, and force me to my shame,
I'de wallow in the flame,
With health, and treasure, free from fears;
I would not have them to be Hers:
Nay should afflicting Furies frame
A fire, and force me to my shame,
I'de wallow in the flame,
| Claraphil and Clarinda | |