T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
To Choose a Friend, but Never Marry
Anonymous(From Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1719) |
TO all young Men that love to Woo, | |
To Kiss and Dance, and Tumble too; | |
Draw near and counsel take of me, | |
Your faithful Pilot I will be: | |
Kiss who you please, Joan, Kate, or Mary, | 5 |
But still this Counsel with you carry, | |
Never Marry. | |
Court not a Country Lady, she | |
Knows not how to value thee; | |
She hath no am’rous Passion, but | 10 |
What Tray, or Quando has for Slut: | |
To Lick, to Whine, to Frisk, or Cover, | |
She’ll suffer thee, or any other, | |
Thus to Love her. | |
Her Daughter she’s now come to Town, | 15 |
In a rich Linsey Woolsey Gown; | |
About her Neck a valued Prize, | |
A Necklace made of Whitings Eyes: | |
With List for Garters ’bove her Knee, | |
And Breath that smells of Firmity, | 20 |
’s not for thee. | |
Of Widows’ Witchcrafts have a care, | |
For if they catch you in their Snare; | |
You must as daily Laborers do, | |
Be still a shoving with your Plow: | 25 |
If any rest you do require, | |
They then deceive you of your Hire, | |
And retire. | |
The Maiden Ladies of the Town, | |
Are scarcely worth your throwing down; | 30 |
For when you have possession got, | |
Or Venus Mark, or Honey-pot: | |
There’s such a stir with, marry me, | |
That one would half forswear to see | |
Any she. | 35 |
If that thy Fancy do desire, | |
A glorious out-side, rich Attire; | |
Come to the Court, and there you’ll find, | |
Enough of such to Please your Mind: | |
But if you get too near their Lap, | 40 |
You’re sure to meet with a Mishap. | |
Called a Clap. | |
With greasy painted Faces dressed, | |
With buttered Hair, and fucus’d Breast; | |
Tongues with Dissimulation tipped, | 45 |
Lips which a Million have them sipped: | |
There’s nothing got by such as these, | |
But Aches in Shoulders, Pains in Knees | |
For your Fees. | |
In fine, if thou delight’st to be, | 50 |
Concern’d in Woman’s Company: | |
Make it the Study of thy Life, | |
To find a Rich, young, handsome Wife: | |
That can with much discretion be | |
Dear to her Husband, kind to thee, | 55 |
Secretly. | |
In such a Mistress, there’s the Bliss, | |
Ten Thousand Joys wrapt in a Kiss; | |
And in th’ Embraces of her Waist, | |
A Million more of Pleasures taste: | 60 |
Who e’er would Marry that could be | |
Blest with such Opportunity, | |
Never me! | |