Author Lord John Wilmot Methinks I see you, newly risen From your embroider'd Bed and pissing, With studied mien and much grimace, Present yourself before your glass, To vanish and smooth o'er those graces, You rubb'd off in your Night Embraces. Tags night rose Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments