Sunday, November 09, 2008

To the Surgeons, to make much of Time


Not Rofes, Pofies, Hyacinths or Lilies;
Not Dandylion, Clover, Daffydowndilly;
Neither Stockinges, Girdles, Veils, nor Wimples:
What really gets my JULIA is Pimples.
To lance, to fqueeze, to poppe, to bringe forthe PUS:
To make them ouze, weepe, groane, & gush forthe jus.
With gentyl tonge, biddes me lie on my chest
(I cannot but obey her fweete beheaft)
And thanne with eager fingers doth fhe prye,
And I with mournefulle voice do tearfulle crye.
And yet, by heav'n, I think my love as fine
As any pimple fhe doth fqueeze of mine!


Cometh the hour, cometh the man,
Cometh his face with boyles & spottes.
Cometh forth JULIA, daintie & purely, her
Hands out before her to kneadeth thofe knottes;
Squeezing & workinge, her tafk never fhirking:
Away goeth the man, withe his face all ablotch.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man,
Prancking his lockes, & preening his ruffes.
Poppeth out JULIA - moft beautifully - her
Hands draw forth duft, grey haires and dandruffe -
Midges & mites, fmall mammals that byttes,
Earwigs, tickes, lice, & other fuch ftuffe.

- Erick Herrick, eftranged* coufin of Robert Herrick

* VERY efstranged.


Bwca said...

'eftranged'? .... fuppuratingly fo.

TimT said...

I was fecretly hoping for fomething more along the lines of 'fuperb! fuperlative! fupreme!'


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