 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Instructions to his Mistress how to behave her self at Supper with her Husband,
1682.
Since to restrain our Joys, that ill but rude
Familiar thing, your Husband, will intrude;
For a just Judgment may th'unwelcome Ghest,
At this Night's lucky Supper eat his last:
O how shall I with Patience e'er stand by,
While my Corinna gives another Joy;
His wanton hands in her soft Bosom warms,
And folds about her Neck his clasping Arms
O tortering Sight, but since it must be so,
Be kind, and learn what 'tis I'de have you do.
Familiar thing, your Husband, will intrude;
For a just Judgment may th'unwelcome Ghest,
At this Night's lucky Supper eat his last:
O how shall I with Patience e'er stand by,
While my Corinna gives another Joy;
His wanton hands in her soft Bosom warms,
And folds about her Neck his clasping Arms
216
Be kind, and learn what 'tis I'de have you do.
Come first be sure, for tho' the place may prove,
Unfit for all we wish, you'll show me Love:
When call'd to Table, you demurely go,
Gently in passing, touch my hand or so:
Mark all my Actions, well observe my Eye,
My Speaking, Signs, and to each Sign reply.
If I do ought of which you would complain,
Upon your Elbow languishingly lean:
But if you're pleas'd with what I do or say,
Steal me a smile and snatch your Eyes away:
When you reflect on our past secret Joys,
Hold modestly your Fan before your Eyes;
And when the nauseous Husband tedious grows,
Your lifted hands with scornfull Anger close,
As if you call'd for Vengeance from above,
Upon that dull impediment to Love:
A thousand skilfull ways we'll find to show,
Our mutual Love which none but we shall know.
I'll watch the parting Glass where-e'er you drink,
And where your Lips have touch'd it, kiss the Brink:
Like still the dish that in your reach does stand,
Taking the Plate, I so may feel your hand.
But what he recommends to you to eat,
Coyly refuse, as if you loath'd the Meat;
Nor let his Matrimonial Right appear,
By any ill-tim'd Houshold freedom there:
Let not his fulsom Arms embrace your wast,
Nor lolling Head upon your Bosom rest.
One Kiss wou'd straight make all my Passion known,
And my fierce Eyes with rage would claim their own;
Yet what thus passes will be done i'th' Light,
But oh! the Joys that may be kept from Sight;
Legs lock't in Legs, Thighs pressing Thighs, and all
The wanton Spells that up Love's Fury call:
Those cunning Arts that I so oft have us'd,
Makes me now fear to be my self abus'd;
To clear my doubts, so far your Chair remove,
As may prevent th'intelligence of Love.
Put him in mind of pledging ev'ry Health,
And let the tutor'd Page add Wine by stealth:
The Sot grown drunk, we easier may retire,
And do as the occasion will require:
But after all, (alas) how small the gains
Will be, for which we take such mighty pains:
Torn from my Arms, you must go home to bed,
And leave your poor forsaken Lover dead:
Cruel Divorce, enough to break my Heart,
Without you promise this before we part;
When my blest Rival goes to reap his Joy,
Receive him so as may the Bliss destroy:
Let not the least kind mark of Love escape,
But all be Duty and a lawfull Rape;
So deadly cold and void of all desire,
That like a Charm it may put out the Fire;
But if compell'd you should at last comply,
When we meet next be sure you all deny.
Unfit for all we wish, you'll show me Love:
When call'd to Table, you demurely go,
Gently in passing, touch my hand or so:
Mark all my Actions, well observe my Eye,
My Speaking, Signs, and to each Sign reply.
If I do ought of which you would complain,
Upon your Elbow languishingly lean:
But if you're pleas'd with what I do or say,
Steal me a smile and snatch your Eyes away:
When you reflect on our past secret Joys,
Hold modestly your Fan before your Eyes;
And when the nauseous Husband tedious grows,
Your lifted hands with scornfull Anger close,
As if you call'd for Vengeance from above,
Upon that dull impediment to Love:
A thousand skilfull ways we'll find to show,
Our mutual Love which none but we shall know.
I'll watch the parting Glass where-e'er you drink,
And where your Lips have touch'd it, kiss the Brink:
Like still the dish that in your reach does stand,
Taking the Plate, I so may feel your hand.
But what he recommends to you to eat,
Coyly refuse, as if you loath'd the Meat;
Nor let his Matrimonial Right appear,
By any ill-tim'd Houshold freedom there:
Let not his fulsom Arms embrace your wast,
Nor lolling Head upon your Bosom rest.
One Kiss wou'd straight make all my Passion known,
And my fierce Eyes with rage would claim their own;
Yet what thus passes will be done i'th' Light,
But oh! the Joys that may be kept from Sight;
Legs lock't in Legs, Thighs pressing Thighs, and all
The wanton Spells that up Love's Fury call:
217
Makes me now fear to be my self abus'd;
To clear my doubts, so far your Chair remove,
As may prevent th'intelligence of Love.
Put him in mind of pledging ev'ry Health,
And let the tutor'd Page add Wine by stealth:
The Sot grown drunk, we easier may retire,
And do as the occasion will require:
But after all, (alas) how small the gains
Will be, for which we take such mighty pains:
Torn from my Arms, you must go home to bed,
And leave your poor forsaken Lover dead:
Cruel Divorce, enough to break my Heart,
Without you promise this before we part;
When my blest Rival goes to reap his Joy,
Receive him so as may the Bliss destroy:
Let not the least kind mark of Love escape,
But all be Duty and a lawfull Rape;
So deadly cold and void of all desire,
That like a Charm it may put out the Fire;
But if compell'd you should at last comply,
When we meet next be sure you all deny.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |