T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
When Scorching Phbus
Percys Folio Manuscript(Anonymous) WHEN scorching Phœbus he did mount,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
Then Lady Venus went to hunt, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
To whom Diana did resort, | 5 |
With all the Ladies of hills and valleys, | |
of springs and floods, | |
To show where all the princely sport, | |
With hound imbrued, and hearts pursued, | |
through groves and woods. | 10 |
This tender hearted lover’s Queen,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
Such wand’ring sports had seldom seen, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
She took no pleasure in the same, | 15 |
To see hounds merry, and poor hearts weary | |
for want of breath. | |
Quoth she, “I like better that game | |
Where ladies beauties do pay their duties | |
to love’s sweet death.” | 20 |
The air was hot, and she was dry,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
To Bacchus court she fast did hie— | |
Parmi les champs. | |
Her faint and weary heart [to] cherish, | 25 |
Which was so fired, that she desired | |
To quench her thirst, | |
And cried, “Help Bacchus, or else I perish!” | |
Who still did hold her, and plainly told her | |
he would kiss her first. | 30 |
Then Bacchus with a power divine,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
Himself turned to a butt of wine,— | |
Parmi les champs,— | |
And bade this lady drink her fill, | 35 |
And take her pleasure in any measure, | |
and make no waste; | |
And gave her leave to suck the quill, | |
Which was spriteful and delightful | |
unto her taste. | 40 |
At last this butt did run a tilt— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
Quoth she, “One drop shall not be spilt, | |
Parmi les champs, | |
For it doth pleasing taste so well, | 45 |
My heart doth will me for to fill me | |
of this sweet Vine; | |
I would that I might always dwell | |
In this fair Arbor! here’s so good harbor, | |
and pleasant wine.” | 50 |
She drunk so long, ere she had done,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
Her belly swelled like a tun, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
At last she fell in pieces twain; | 55 |
And being asunder, appeared a wonder, | |
God Priapus! | |
Yet fain she would have drunk again; | |
And oft did visit, and much solicit | |
God Biacchus. | 60 |
His empty cask would yield no more,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
For she had sucked it full sore, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
Quoth she, “God Bacchus, change thy shape; | 65 |
For now thy rigour, and all thy vigour, | |
Is clean decayed. | |
Behold [thou] here this new-born babe, | |
Who when he is proved, he’ll be beloved | |
of wife and maid.” | 70 |
This belly god that would be drunk— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
And being a goddess, proved a punk, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
Her lusty bastard stiff and strong, | 75 |
Was made and framed, and also named, | |
god Bacchus heir. | |
He had a nose three handful Long, | |
With one eye bleared, and all besmeared | |
about with hair. | 80 |
He is the god of rich and poor— | |
Tous-jour bon temps;— | |
He openeth every woman’s door, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
He ceaseth all debate and strife, | 85 |
And gently ’peaseth, and sweetly pleaseth | |
the hungry womb. | |
He is the joy twixt man and wife; | |
Her pleasure lasteth, and sweeter tasteth | |
than honey comb. | 90 |
Now all you nice and dainty dames,— | |
Tous-jour bon temps,— | |
To use this god, think it no shame, | |
Parmi les champs. | |
Then let my speeches not offend, | 95 |
Tho you be gaudy, and I be bawdy | |
and want a rod! | |
Good deeds shall speeches fault amend | |
When you are willing for to be billing | |
with this sweet god. | 100 |