T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Bonny Lass: Or, the Buttoned Smock
Anonymous(From Pills to Purge Melancholy, c. 1720) |
SIT you merry Gallants, | |
For I can tell you News, | |
Of a Fashion called the Buttoned Smock, | |
The which our Wenches use: | |
Because that in the City, | 5 |
In troth it is great pity; | |
Our Gallants hold it much in scorn, | |
They should put down the City: | |
But is not this a bouncing Wench, | |
And is not this a Bonny; | 10 |
In troth she wears a Holland Smock, | |
If that she weareth any. | |
A bonny Lass in a Country Town, | |
Unto her Commendation; | |
She scorns a Holland Smock | 15 |
Made after the old Fashion: | |
But she will have it Holland fine, | |
As fine as may be wore; | |
Hemmed and stitched with Naples Silk, | |
And buttoned down before: But is not, etc. | 20 |
Our Gallants of the City, | |
New Fashions do devise; | |
And wear such new found fangle things, | |
Which country Folk despise; | |
As for the Buttoned Smock, | 25 |
None can hold it in scorn; | |
Nor none can think the Fashion ill, | |
It is so closely worn: | |
Although it may be felt, | |
It’s seldom to be seen; | 30 |
It passeth all the Fashions yet, | |
That heretofore hath been. But is not, etc. | |
Our Wenches of the City, | |
That gains the Silver rare; | |
Sometimes they wear a Canvas Smock, | 35 |
That’s torn or worn Thread-bare: | |
Perhaps a Smock of Lockrum, | |
That dirty, foul, or black: | |
Or else a Smock of Canvas coarse, | |
As hard as any Sack. But is not, etc. | 40 |
But she that wears the Holland Smock, | |
I commend her still that did it; | |
To wear her under Parts so fine, | |
The more ’tis for her Credit: | |
For some will have the out-side fine, | 45 |
To make the braver show; | |
But she will have her Holland Smock | |
That’s Buttoned down below. But is not, etc. | |
But if that I should take in hand, | |
Her Person to commend; | 50 |
I should vouchsafe a long Discourse, | |
The which I could not end: | |
For her Virtues they are many, | |
Her person likewise such; | |
But only in particular, | 55 |
Some part of them I’ll touch. But is not, etc. | |
Those Fools that still are doing, | |
With none but costly Dames; | |
With tediousness of wooing, | |
Makes cold their hottest flames: | 60 |
Give me the Country Lass, | |
That trips it o’er the Field; | |
And ope’s her Forest at the first, | |
And is not Coy to yield. But is not, etc. | |
Who when she dons her Vesture, | 65 |
She makes the Spring her Glass; | |
And with her Comely gesture, | |
Doth all the Meadows pass: | |
Who knows no other cunning, | |
But when she feels it come; | 70 |
To gripe your Back, if you be slack, | |
And thrust your Weapon home. But is not, etc. | |
’Tis not their boasting humour, | |
Their painted looks nor state; | |
Nor smells of the Perfumer, | 75 |
The Creature doth create: | |
Shall make me unto these, | |
Such slavish service owe; | |
Give me the Wench that freely takes, | |
And freely doth bestow. But is not, etc. | 80 |
Who far from all beguiling, | |
Doth not her Beauty Mask; | |
But all the while lie smiling, | |
While you are at your task: | |
Who in the midst of Pleasure, | 85 |
Will beyond active strain; | |
And for your Pranks, will con you thanks, | |
And curtsey for your pain. But is not, etc. | |