dots-menu
×

Home  »  Poetica Erotica  »  Who Is to Marry Me?

T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.

Who Is to Marry Me?

By Thomas Campion (1567–1620)
 
YOUNG and simple though I am,
I have heard of Cupid’s name;
Guess I can, what thing it is,
Men desire when they do kiss.
Smoke can never burn, they say;        5
But the flame that follows, may.
 
I am not so foul or fair,
To be proud, or to despair;
Yet my lips have oft observ’d,
Men that kiss them, press them hard,        10
As glad lovers use to do
When their new met loves they woo.
 
Faith, ’tis but a foolish mind;
Yet methinks, a heat I find,
Like thirst longing, that doth bide        15
Ever on my weaker side,
Where they say my heart doth move:
Venus grant it be not love.
 
If it be, alas what then,
Were not Women made for Men?        20
As good ’tis, a thing were past,
That must needs be done at last,
Roses that are overblown,
Grow less sweet, then fall alone.
 
Yet no Churl nor silken Gull,        25
Shall my maiden blossom pull,
Who shall not, I soon can tell;
Who shall, I would I could as well.
This I know who ere he be,
Love he must, or flatter me.        30
 
Married wives may take and leave;
Where they please, refuse, receive;
We poor Maids must not do so;
We must answer yea with no;
We seem strange, coy, and curst,        35
And fain we would do, if we durst.