To a Young Lady, With Some Lampreys

With lovers, ’twas of old the fashion By presents to convey their passion; No matter what the gift they sent, The Lady saw that love was meant. Fair Atalanta , as a favour, Took the boar’s head her Hero gave her; Nor could the bristly thing affront her, ’Twas a fit present from a hunter. When Squires send woodcocks to the dame, It serves to show their absent flame: Some by a snip of woven hair, In posied lockets bribe the fair; How many mercenary matches Have sprung from Di’mond-rings and watches! But hold – a ring, a watch, a locket, Would drain at once a Poet’s pocket; He should send songs that cost him nought, Nor ev’n he prodigal of thought. Why then send Lampreys? fye, for shame! ’Twill set a virgin’s blood on flame. This to fifteen a proper gift! It might lend sixty five a lift. I know your maiden Aunt will scold, And think my present somewhat bold. I see her lift her hands and eyes. ‘What eat it, Niece? eat Spanish flies! ‘Lamprey’s a most immodest diet: ‘You’ll neither wake nor sleep in quiet. ‘Should I to night eat Sago cream, ‘’Twould make me blush to tell my dream; ‘If I eat Lobster, ’tis so warming, ‘That ev’ry man I see looks charming; ‘Wherefore had not the filthy fellow ‘Laid Rochester upon your pillow? ‘I vow and swear, I think the present ‘Had been as modest and as decent. ‘Who has her virtue in her power? ‘Each day has its unguarded hour; ‘Always in danger of undoing, ‘A prawn, a shrimp may prove our ruin! ‘The shepherdess, who lives on salad, ‘To cool her youth, controuls her palate; ‘Should Dian’s maids turn liqu’rish livers, ‘And of huge lampreys rob the rivers, ‘Then all beside each glade and Visto, ‘You’d see Nymphs lying like Calisto . ‘The man who meant to heat your blood, ‘Needs not himself such vicious food –’ In this, I own, your Aunt is clear, I sent you what I well might spare: For when I see you, (without joking) Your eyes, lips, breasts, are so provoking, They set my heart more cock-a-hoop, Than could whole seas of craw-fish soupe.