A GREAT DIVIDE BETWEEN
THE POWERLESS AND THE POWER
ye have a young Virgin of fifteen Years,
You must tickle her Fancy with
sweets and dears,
Ever toying, and playing, and sweetly, sweetly,
Love Sonnet, and charm her Ears:
Wittily, prettily talk her down,
her, and praise her, if fair or brown,
Sooth her, and smooth her,
teaze her, and please her,
And touch but her Smicket, and all's your own.
Do ye fancy a Widow well known in a Man?
With a front of Assurance come
Let her rest not an Hour, but briskly, briskly,
Put her in mind
how her Time steals on;
Rattle and prattle although she frown,
and towse her from Morn to Noon,
Shew her some Hour y'are able to
Then get but her Writings, and all's your own.
Do ye fancy a Punk of a Humour free,
That's kept by a Fumbler of
You must rail at her Keeper, and tell her, tell her
best Charm is Variety,
Swear her much fairer than all the Town,
and ply her when Cully's gone,
Dog her, and jog her,
And meet her, and
And kiss with two Guinea's, and all's your own.
The City Waits
Thomas Du'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy