T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
I Burn, I Burn, I Burn
By Thomas D’Urfey (1653–1723)(From Don Quixote, 1707) I BURN, I burn, I burn, I burn, I burn, | |
| I burn, I burn, I burn, I burn, I burn, | |
| My Brain consumes to Ashes, | |
| Each Eye-ball too like Lightning flashes, | |
| Like Lightning flashes; | 5 |
| Within my Breast there glows a solid Fire, | |
| Which in a thousand, thousand Ages can’t expire. | |
| Blow, blow, blow, | |
| Blow the Winds, great Ruler, blow, | |
| Bring the Po and the Ganges hither, | 10 |
| ’Tis sultry, sultry, sultry Weather; | |
| Pour ’em all on my Soul, it will hiss, | |
| It will hiss like a Coal, | |
| But never, never be the cooler. | |
| ’Twas pride, hot as Hell, that first made me rebel, | 15 |
| From Love’s awful Throne a curst Angel I fell; | |
| And mourn now the Fate, | |
| Which my self did create, | |
| Fool, Fool, that consider’d not when I was well; | |
| And mourn now the Fate, | 20 |
| Which my self did create, | |
| Fool, Fool, that consider’d not when I was well. | |
| Adieu, adieu, transporting Joys, | |
| Adieu, adieu, transporting Joys; | |
| Off, off, off, ye vain fantastic Toys, | 25 |
| Off, off, ye vain fantastic Toys, | |
| That drap’d this Face and Body to allure, | |
| Bring, bring me Daggers, | |
| Poison, Fire, Fire, Daggers, Poison, Fire, | |
| For Scorn is turn’d into Desire; | 30 |
| All Hell, all Hell feels not the Rage, | |
| Which I, poor I, which I, poor I, endure. | |