THE School of Venus.
VVhen Lusty Lads and Lasses meet, and merrily do play;
The pleasures are so strong and sweet, both Sexes Love obey.
Tune of,
Hail to the Mirtle Shade.
HOw long shall I sigh and mourn,
and part with my sorrowful tears,
How long shall I live forlorn,
possessed with troubles and fears;
Now, now I do vow and protest,
the torment is great that I féel;
And I am debare'd of rest,
my sorrows I cannot reveal.
Oh who could imagine that love
should prove such a terrible pain,
There's nothing my pangs can remove,
while my love doth show me disdain;
For passion grows stronger, and stronger
and let me do all that I can;
These plagues I'le endure no longer,
but will have about with a man.
Though Father and Mother perswade,
their labours will prove but in vain,
My thinks I'm too old for a Maid,
all people they will me disdain:
My Maiden-head I will not kéep,
whatever to me doth betide,
I never shall quietly sléep,
till I have a stout Lad by my side.
How happy are those that are wed,
and nightly do tast of that bliss,
For want of which I am half dead,
and hardly can meet with a kiss:
No creature was ever more vext,
then I for the want of a man;
But I'le be no longer perplext,
I'le have one this night if I can.
There's many more younger then I
have tasted what I do so want,
It makes me put finger in eye,
to think that young-men are so scant;
And my heart it is ready to burst
since I can no comfort enjoy,
Of Virgins sure I am the worst,
with me there is none that will toy.
A young-man that heard her complain,
unto her he did hastily go,
He told her he'd ease her of pain,
and banish her sorrow and woe:
He catch'd her fast hold in his arms,
and gave her sweet kisses good store,
She freely could put up these harms,
by no means she'd give o're.
At last he so wanton did grow,
that nothing could serve but the bed:
She thither did willingly go,
and parted with her Maiden-head:
Such kissing and clipping was there,
the like was scarce ever before,
The youngster could not forbear,
while she cry'd for more and more.
But when she the youngster had tam'd,
his courage began to grow cool,
His eagerness then she much blam'd,
and told him he did like a fool:
Had you fair and softly gone,
you might have continu'd till night:
But when you were forc'd to be gone,
you rob'd me of joy and Delight.
And every minute, said she,
to me will appear as a year,
Till again I do dally with thee,
who now art my Ioy and my dear:
No pleasure before that I knew,
could be half so pleasant as this:
Quoth she, I'le thy courage renew,
by the charms of an amorous kiss.
About his neck she laid her arms,
till kisses had made him half mad,
And by the force of her charms,
had wearyed the young wanton Lad:
Then sighing to her he did say,
I now must be forc'd to give o're;
No longer the wanton I'le play,
this time I can kiss thee no more.
Printed for Josiah Blare, at the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge,