“DEAR Jill, I ne’er thought until last night, | |
| That Cupid hath yielded such sweet delight; | |
| But when thy soft arms with mine are twined, | |
| The Ivy the Oak did not closer bind; | |
| Thou gav’st me sweet kisses, that might invite | 5 |
| Ev’n in old shepherds a new delight; | |
| Young Colin did ne’er with Myrtilla so bright, | |
| Enjoy such a sweet, such a pleasing night.” | |
| |
| “My Ned,” (quoth she) “since I have thee here, | |
| I will be a port for to please my dear: | 10 |
| And in the soft circuit of my pale, | |
| Feed either upon the high hill or dale. | |
| Graze on my soft lips, if those hills be dry | |
| Stray further down where fountains lie: | |
| Thy doe, thy fair breeder, will always be nigh, | 15 |
| To please her young wanton with Art and Eye.” | |
| |
| “Thou shalt be a banquet to my taste, | |
| On which I will always delight to feast; | |
| As sweet as young Colley the farmer’s cow, | |
| As sweet as the hay in his barn, I vow: | 20 |
| As sweet as young roses that all admire, | |
| Or as May-blossoms upon the briar: | |
| As sweet as blind midnight, with maiden’s desire; | |
| As sweet as sack-posset by sea-coal fire.” | |
| |
| “Uds boars,” quoth Ned, “I’ll forsake my dumps, | 25 |
| And briskly bestir my old hob-nail stumps; | |
| The lasses shall foot it, the lads shall sing, | |
| And echoes all round with our joys shall ring. | |
| Doll shall leave dairy, and James brown cow, | |
| And so shall brisk Roger his cart and plough, | 30 |
| To meet us young Nancy and William come now: | |
| We shall have rare dances and jigs enow. | |
| |
| “Though Bachelors may live merry lives, | |
| Yet we will not change that have buxom wives. | |
| Upon the soft pillow of their breast | 35 |
| We love-sick lie warm in Cupid’s nest. | |
| What though there be cuckolds, we need not fear, | |
| Of wives, we always will take such care, | |
| Although the brows bud, we, the horns shan’t wear, | |
| To make us look noble and like the deer. | 40 |
| |
| “If Jill should within the curtains chide, | |
| My antlers and head in the sheets I’ll hide; | |
| And when my good housewife-pot boils o’er, | |
| To cool her hot broth I’ll attempt no more. | |
| It is, I confess, the depth of skill | 45 |
| To lead silly women by their own will; | |
| But while her tongue gallops my tongue shall lie still, | |
| And thus I’ll endeavor to please Jill, Jill.” | |
| |
| “Dear Neddy,” quoth Jill, “name not things so soon, | |
| With us ’tis but yet our honey-moon. | 50 |
| Come, let us to please each other strive, | |
| And gather like bees within our hive. | |
| Thou must not be like a dull idle drone, | |
| Nor mind about horns, for thou shalt have none: | |
| But follow thy plow by Dobbin and Roan, | 55 |
| And to my milking I’ll go with Joan.” | |
| |
| “Dear Jill, there are many old complaints; | |
| All wives that look fair don’t prove all saints; | |
| For many men’s wives are like the moon, | |
| That alters each morning, each night and noon. | 60 |
| Yet for my own part, I will never fear, | |
| But shall try always to please my dear. | |
| If I can, my wife will hold almost a year: | |
| This riddle me riddle nine months will clear.” | |
| |
