Verse > Anthologies > T. R. Smith, ed. > Poetica Erotica: A Collection of Rare and Curious Amatory Verse
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T. R. Smith, comp.  Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse.  1921–22.
 
The Disappointment
By Thomas D’Urfey (1653–1723)
 
(From Songs Complete, 1719)

THE CLOCK had struck, faith I cannot tell what,
But Morning was come as Grey as a Cat;
Cocks and Hens from their Roosts did fly,
Grunting Hogs too had left their sty;
        When in a Vale,        5
        Carrying a Pail,
Sissly her new Lover met, Dapper Harry;
        First they Kissed,
        Then shook Fist,
Then talked as Fools do, that just were to Marry.        10
 
Zooks cried Hal, I can’t but think,
Now we are come to Wedlock brink;
How pure a stock ’twill be how fine,
When you put your good mark to mine;
        Siss at that,        15
        Growing hot,
Bussed him as if she’d have burnt him to Tinder;
        Thus they Woo,
        But see how,
Damned Fate contrived now the Bargain to hinder.        20
 
Sissly had got a Cold I suppose,
And ’twixt her Fingers was blowing her Nose;
Harry, that Linen too wanted I doubt,
Lent her his Glove, to serve for a Clout;
        Scraping low,        25
        Manners to show,
And tell her how much he was her adorer:
        Pray mark the Joke,
        Leather thong broke,
And Breeches fell down to his Ankles before her.        30
 
Sissly who saw him thus distrest,
Pulls of her Garter of woolen List;
And with a sly and leering look,
Gave it to mend up what was broke;
        Fumbling he,        35
        Could not see,
What he discovered, tho’ e’er he had tied all:
        For just before,
        Shirt was tore,
And as the Devil would have’t she had spied all.        40
 
She gave him then so cold a Look,
Discontent it plainly spoke;
And running from him near a Mile,
He overtook her at a stile;
        Too much hast,        45
        Milk down cast,
And topsy turvy she fell on her Pole with’t:
        He seeing that,
        Runs with’s Hat,
But could not Cover her C—— for his soul with’t:        50
 
Have you not seen at Noon of Day,
The Sun his glorious Face display;
So Sissly shone with Beauty’s Rays,
Reflecting from her Postern grace;
        Till at last        55
        Struggling past,
Wide sprawling Legs were again set in order:
        But poor Hal,
        Since her fall,
Stood just like one was found guilty of Murder.        60
 
The God of Love, or else old Nick,
Sure had designed this Devilish trick,
To make the Bridegroom and the Bride;
With themselves dissatisfied;
        She grown coy,        65
        Called him Boy,
He getting from her cried Zoons you’re a rouzer.
        Foh, she cried,
        By things spied,
She had as live a mere Baby should espouse her.        70
 
 
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