T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Celemene, Pray Tell Me
Anonymous(From Pills to Purge Melancholy [1719], with music; set by Mr. Henry Purcell, sung by a Boy and Girl at the Playhouse) |
He. | Celemene, pray tell me, | |
Pray, pray tell me, Celemene, | ||
When those pretty, pretty, pretty Eyes I see, | ||
Why my Heart beats, beats, beats, beats in my Breast, | ||
Why, why it will not, it will not, why, why, it will not let me rest: | 5 | |
Why this trembling, why this trembling too all o’er? | ||
Pains I never, pains I never, never, never felt before: | ||
And when thus I touch, when thus I touch your hand, | ||
Why I wish, I wish, I wish, I was a Man? | ||
She. | How should I know more than you? | 10 |
Yet would be a Woman too. | ||
When you wash your self and play, | ||
I methinks could look all day; | ||
Nay, just now, nay, just now am pleased, am pleased so well, | ||
Should you, should you kiss me, I won’t tell, | 15 | |
Should you, should you kiss me, I won’t tell. | ||
No, no I won’t tell, no, no I won’t tell, no, no I won’t tell. | ||
Should you kiss me I won’t tell. | ||
He. | Tho’ I could do that all day, | |
And desire no better play: | 20 | |
Sure, sure in Love there’s something more, | ||
Which makes Mamma so big, so big before. | ||
She. | Once by chance I heard it named, | |
Don’t ask what, don’t ask what, for I’m ashamed: | ||
Stay but till you’re past Fifteen, | 25 | |
Then you’ll know, then, then you’ll know what ’tis I mean, | ||
Then you’ll know what, then you’ll know what ’tis I mean. | ||
He. | However, lose not present bliss, | |
But now we’re alone, let’s kiss: | ||
But now we’re alone let’s kiss, let’s kiss. | 30 | |
She. | My breasts do so heave, so heave, so heave, | |
He. | My Heart does so pant, pant, pant; | |
She. | There’s Something, something, something more we want, | |
There’s Something, something, something more we want. | ||