The Song (John Wilmot)

"The Song"

by John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester

As Chloris full of harmless thought Beneath the willows lay, Kind love a comely shepherd brought To pass the time away.

She blushed to be encountered so And chid the amorous swain, But as she strove to rise and go, He pulled her back again.

A sudden passion seized her heart In spite of her disdain; She found a pulse in every part, And love in every vein.

"Ah, youth!" quoth she, "What charms are these That conquer and surprise? Ah, let me--for unless you please, I have no power to rise."

She faintly spoke, and trembling lay, For fear he should comply, But virgins' eyes their hearts betray And give their tongues the lie.

Thus she, who princes had denied With all their pompous train, Was in the lucky minute tried And yielded to the swain.

Love a woman? You're an ass! 'Tis a most insipid passion To choose out for your happiness The silliest part of God's creation.

Let the porter and the groom, Things designed for dirty slaves, Drudge in fair Aurelia's womb To get supplies for age and graves.

Farewell, woman! I intend Henceforth every night to sit With my lewd, well-natured friend, Drinking to engender wit.

Then give me health, wealth, mirth, and wine, And, if busy love entrenches, There's a sweet, soft page of mine Does the trick worth forty wenches.