T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Sit Down, My Dear Sylvia
Anonymous(From Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1719) |
Alexis. | Sit down my dear Sylvia, | |
And then tell me, tell me true, | ||
When we the fierce pleasure of Passion first knew; | ||
What Senses were charmed, | ||
And what Raptures did dwell, | 5 | |
Within thy fond Heart, my dear Nymph, prithee tell! | ||
That when thy Delights in their fulness are known, | ||
I may have the joy to relate all my own. | ||
Sylvia. | Oh fie, my Alexis! | |
How dare you propose, | 10 | |
To me, silly Girl, things immodest as those! | ||
Nice Candor and Modesty glow in my Breast, | ||
Whose Virtue can utter no Words so unchaste; | ||
But if your impatience admits no delay, | ||
Describe your own Raptures, | 15 | |
And teach me the way. | ||
Alexis. | A pain mixed with Pleasure my Senses first found, | |
When crowds of Delight straight my Heart did surround; | ||
A Joy so transporting, I sighed when it was done: | ||
And fain would renew, but alas! all was gone; | 20 | |
Coy nature was treacherous, when first she meant, | ||
A Treasure so precious so soon should be spent. | ||
Sylvia. | This free kind Confession does so much prevail, | |
That I in your bosom would blush out my Tale; | ||
But Dearest, you know, ’tis too much to declare, | 25 | |
The Joys that our Souls, when united, do share. | ||
Let this then suffice, if the Pleasure could last, | ||
A Saint would leave Heaven, still so to be blest. | ||