 | The poems of John Wilmot: Earl of Rochester |  |
To A Lady, in A Letter.
1
Such perfect Blisse faire Chloris, weeIn our Enjoyment prove
'Tis pitty restless Jealiousy
Should Mingle with our Love.
2
Lett us (since witt has taught us how)Raise pleasure to the Topp
You Rivall Bottle must allow
I'le suffer Rivall Fopp.
3
Thinke not in this, that I designeA Treason 'gainst Loves Charmes
When following the God of Wine
I Leave my Chloris armes.
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4
Since you have that for all your hastAtt which I'le ne're repine
Will take his Likour of as fast
As I can take of mine.
5
There's not A brisk insipid SparkeThat Flutters in the Towne
But with your wanton eyes, you marke
Him out to be your owne.
6
Nor doe you thinke it worth your careHow empty and how dull
The heads of your Admirers are
Soe that their Codds bè full.
7
All this you freely may ConfesseYett wee nere disagree
For did you love your pleasure lesse
You were noe Match for mee.
8
Whilst I my pleasure to pursueWhole nights am takeing in,
The Lusty Juice of Grapes, take you
The Juice of Lusty Men.
| The poems of John Wilmot: Earl of Rochester | |