Classic Poem

As crafty harlots use to shrink
From lechers, dozed with sleep and drink,
When they intend to make up pack
By filching sheets or shirt from back,
So were you pleased to steal away
From me, whilst on your bed I lay.
But long you had not been departed
When pinched with cold from thence I started;
Where missing you I stamped and stared,
Like Bacon when he waked and heard
His Brazen Head in vain had spoke
And saw it lie in pieces broke.
Sighing I to my chamber make,
Where every limb was stiff as stake,
Unless poor pego, which did feel
Like slimy skin of new-stripped eel,
Or pudding that mischance had got
And spent itself half in the pot.
With care I cleansed the sneaking varlet
Which late had been in pool of harlot;
But neither shirt nor water could
Remove the stench of lecherous mud.
The Queen of Love from sea did spring,
Whence the best cunts still smell like ling.
But sure this damned notorious bitch
Was made of the foam of Jane Shore's ditch —
Or else her cunt could never stink
Like pump that's foul, or nasty sink.
When this was done, to bed I went
Where that whole day in sleep I spent;
But the next morning, fresh and gay
As citizen on holiday,
I wandered in the spacious Town
Amongst the bawds of best renown,
Making enquiry far and near
To find out fresh and wholesome gear.
To Temple I a visit made —
Temple, the Beauty of her trade!
The only bawd that ever I
For want of whore could occupy.
She made me friends with Mrs. Cuffley,
Whom we indeed had used too roughly;
For by a gentler way I found
The nymph would fuck under ten pound.
So resty jades that scorn to stir,
Though oft provoked by whip and spur,
By milder usage may be got
To fall into their wonted trot.
But what success I further had,
And what discoveries good and bad
I made by roving up and down
I'll tell you when you come to Town.
Further, I have obeyed your motion,
Though much provoked by pill and potion,
And sent you down some paltry rhymes,
The greatest grievance of our times,
When such as Nature never made
For poets daily do invade
Wit's Empire, both the stage and press —
And what is worse, with good success.