 | The wits paraphras'd |  |
35
Leander to Hero.
The ARGUMENT.
Leander accustomed nightly to swim over the Hellespont to visit Hero (Priestess of Venus Temple) being at last hinder'd by storms, sends her the following Epistle.
Accept this Token from your most,
Who'd rather been himself the Post.
Smile, Sweet; or if you win my heart,
I had as lieve you'd let a Fart.
'Twou'd be a Token of thy Kindness,
Since thy Leander's left in blindness,
And cannot see, ill chance so happens,
Thy face, without a brace of Capons.
When Seas and Winds oppose my Team,
For there's no striving 'gainst the stream,
Then I betook me to my Writing;
'Twill serve you when you go a sh---ing.
Blest Paper! to what happy pass
Art thou ordain'd, to kiss her A---
Who'd rather been himself the Post.
Smile, Sweet; or if you win my heart,
I had as lieve you'd let a Fart.
'Twou'd be a Token of thy Kindness,
Since thy Leander's left in blindness,
And cannot see, ill chance so happens,
Thy face, without a brace of Capons.
When Seas and Winds oppose my Team,
For there's no striving 'gainst the stream,
Then I betook me to my Writing;
'Twill serve you when you go a sh---ing.
36
Art thou ordain'd, to kiss her A---
Seven nights, with cursing wind & weather,
I have not set my Eyes together.
Tho I can see, for all their pother,
As deep in Milstone as another;
From highest Cliff, tho ne'er so active,
I cou'd not spy thee with Prospective.
This cross-grain'd fit I had the leisure
To think upon our former pleasure;
And like the billows in the main Sea,
Dissolve my self in strength of fancy.
I have not set my Eyes together.
Tho I can see, for all their pother,
As deep in Milstone as another;
From highest Cliff, tho ne'er so active,
I cou'd not spy thee with Prospective.
This cross-grain'd fit I had the leisure
To think upon our former pleasure;
And like the billows in the main Sea,
Dissolve my self in strength of fancy.
'Twas night when first I rought the Port;
Plague on the Quean that spoil'd the sport.
When I did tread, thy poor Leander,
The Hellespont like any Gander;
And Cynthia lookt pale and meager,
As if she envy'd us together.
Plague on the Quean that spoil'd the sport.
When I did tread, thy poor Leander,
The Hellespont like any Gander;
And Cynthia lookt pale and meager,
As if she envy'd us together.
37
My arms grew weak, when hopes t'unrig her,
With thoughts of thee put on new Vigour;
And billows flie about my chops,
In a fresh storm, as thick as hops.
With thoughts of thee put on new Vigour;
And billows flie about my chops,
In a fresh storm, as thick as hops.
Soon in the window I espy'd
Thy Candle-snuff, this was my Guide,
When starv'd with cold the glimmering blaze
Did make me put on heart of grace;
And more than Sops of Hony-suckles
Did in the Floud revive my Cockles.
Then looking sharp, cag'd like a Parrot,
I spy thy Hawks-bill in the Garret.
Straight thou espies, and tho i'th dark,
Full glad thou was to see thy Spark;
And met me half way over, Rot it,
So mad you were for to be at it.
Thy Candle-snuff, this was my Guide,
When starv'd with cold the glimmering blaze
Did make me put on heart of grace;
And more than Sops of Hony-suckles
Did in the Floud revive my Cockles.
Then looking sharp, cag'd like a Parrot,
I spy thy Hawks-bill in the Garret.
Straight thou espies, and tho i'th dark,
Full glad thou was to see thy Spark;
And met me half way over, Rot it,
So mad you were for to be at it.
The shore I gain'd, nor did you stickle
T'accept me in that ruful pickle:
Cloath'd me, and on my naked Dock
Unstript your self to clap your Smock,
Leaving your Bum without a case,
Naked and bare as a Birds arse.
What then we did, our selves know best,
Nor ought the deed to be exprest.
We knew 'twas short, and thought no crime
To make the best use of our time.
So eager were we on the Plunder,
To recollect wou'd be a wonder.
T'accept me in that ruful pickle:
38
Unstript your self to clap your Smock,
Leaving your Bum without a case,
Naked and bare as a Birds arse.
What then we did, our selves know best,
Nor ought the deed to be exprest.
We knew 'twas short, and thought no crime
To make the best use of our time.
So eager were we on the Plunder,
To recollect wou'd be a wonder.
'Tis day; and now I sneakt with groans,
Like an old Dog had lost his stones.
I go away as after frightning,
But I return like Fire and Lightning.
Sestos I loath, my native Cottage,
With thee I'd rather sup Pease-pottage.
Why won't Abidos then come hither?
Since we piss in a Quill together.
We're linkt in body, linkt in mind;
Why shou'd not then our Farms be joyn'd?
The Seas and Winds keep me aluff,
Depending on a humorous Huff:
They lose me many a Bout, and mar all
My Visits till they end the Quarrel.
Like an old Dog had lost his stones.
I go away as after frightning,
But I return like Fire and Lightning.
Sestos I loath, my native Cottage,
With thee I'd rather sup Pease-pottage.
Why won't Abidos then come hither?
Since we piss in a Quill together.
39
Why shou'd not then our Farms be joyn'd?
The Seas and Winds keep me aluff,
Depending on a humorous Huff:
They lose me many a Bout, and mar all
My Visits till they end the Quarrel.
When first upon the shore I lighted,
The Fishes lookt as they were frighted;
And gaz'd upon my brawny Haunches,
As they were scar'd out of their senses.
But now they make no wonder on me,
I am become a mighty Cronie;
And since I'm stopt by th'weather, the Calves
Do miss me much, my Brother Sea-calves.
Oft have I curst the tiresome way,
But oftner far have damn'd my stay
To sculk at home each storm that's pelting,
As if I were afraid of melting.
The Fishes lookt as they were frighted;
And gaz'd upon my brawny Haunches,
As they were scar'd out of their senses.
But now they make no wonder on me,
I am become a mighty Cronie;
And since I'm stopt by th'weather, the Calves
Do miss me much, my Brother Sea-calves.
Oft have I curst the tiresome way,
But oftner far have damn'd my stay
To sculk at home each storm that's pelting,
As if I were afraid of melting.
40
If Summer-blasts keep us asunder,
What shall we do in Snow and Thunder?
E'en then I will not stay much longer,
But plunge away like any Conger.
T'allay the boasting winds, I'll cuff 'em;
And if they won't asswage, I'll huff 'em.
Of my glad scape thy arms are proof,
There I confess I'm warm enough;
Or if I die the Road along,
Then there's an end of an old Song.
I know the Flouds will have the grace
To wast me to the wonted place:
Or if they don't, my amorous Carcass
Knows all the windings to your Stair-case;
Which sure in Complement you'll greet
With tail of Shift for Winding-sheet:
Yet can't with stroaking hand restore
The part you oft reviv'd before.
What shall we do in Snow and Thunder?
E'en then I will not stay much longer,
But plunge away like any Conger.
T'allay the boasting winds, I'll cuff 'em;
And if they won't asswage, I'll huff 'em.
Of my glad scape thy arms are proof,
There I confess I'm warm enough;
Or if I die the Road along,
Then there's an end of an old Song.
I know the Flouds will have the grace
To wast me to the wonted place:
Or if they don't, my amorous Carcass
Knows all the windings to your Stair-case;
Which sure in Complement you'll greet
With tail of Shift for Winding-sheet:
Yet can't with stroaking hand restore
The part you oft reviv'd before.
41
If this offend you, use your Charms
To launch me safer through the Storms:
But when you have me in your Station,
Then let it roar, and tear the Nation.
'Twill give my stay some fair pretences
To gratifie my lewder sences.
Till then, admit this Scrawl to blossom,
And gather Flowers in your bosom.
Lodg'd in thy breast 'twill be some comfort,
Altho it after kiss thy Bum for't.
To launch me safer through the Storms:
But when you have me in your Station,
Then let it roar, and tear the Nation.
'Twill give my stay some fair pretences
To gratifie my lewder sences.
Till then, admit this Scrawl to blossom,
And gather Flowers in your bosom.
Lodg'd in thy breast 'twill be some comfort,
Altho it after kiss thy Bum for't.
| The wits paraphras'd | |