Classic Poem

How many amply will suffice
Of kisses? Lesbia, you demand——
Count ev'ry Lybian sand that lies
Along Cyrene's gum-clad strand;

From where hot Jove his gorgeous dome
Uplifts, amid the sultry waste;
To where, within his sacred tomb,
The relics of old Battus rest:

Or count the stars yon heav'ns display,
When silence wraps the gloom of night;
Those stars unnumber'd, that survey
The furtive lover's soft delight!

So many amply will suffice
Of kisses thy fond poet's want:
No spy can then compute our joys,
No mutter'd magic can inchant.

O, thou brothel most lewd, and you letcherous host,
From the cap-honour'd Brothers who hold the ninth post!
Do you think that you only have passions, and pow'r;
Thus to mingle with wantons, and spend the soft hour?
That no girl, be she dwarfish, tall, snowy, or brown;
Each soul else a rank goat; but must kiss you alone?
What; because a good hundred at least, if not two,
You for ever sit down at the door of your stew;
Do you fancy, you fools, as resentment may call,
I'll not venture one stroke, and let sly at you all?
O, in faith, but I will!—and 'twere serving you right,
With my stick, duly burnt, o'er your brothel to write:
Since my girl, whom these arms could no longer detain;
So belov'd, that none e'er shall be so lov'd again;
For whose sake in a thousand mad riots I've bled;
Hath with you ta'en her place, both to board and to bed:
And you love her, forsooth; you sweet, delicate souls!
O, 'tis shameful, you wretches, fit only for trulls!
But of all the lewd, infamous posse, I vow,
The most lewd, the most worthless, Egnatius, art thou!
Celtiberia's soft son, for long tresses renown'd;
Celtiberia, the country where rabbits abound;
Of thy bushy, black beard who canst only be vain,
And thy teeth nicely polish'd with urine of Spain.