T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
“The Night Her Blackest Sable Wore”
By Thomas D’Urfey (1653–1723)(c. 1682; attributed; Pills to Purge Melancholy (1707), i. 202; and also to Semple of Beltrees; see Roxburgh Ballads [Ballad Soc. Rept.], i. 197.) |
THE NIGHT her blackest Sable wore, | |
| And gloomy were the Skies; | |
| And glitt’ring Stars there were no more, | |
| Than those in Stella’s Eyes; | |
| When at her Father’s Gate I knocked, | 5 |
| Where I had often been, | |
| And shrouded only with her Smock, | |
| The Fair one let me in. | |
| Fast locked within her close Embrace, | |
| She trembling lay ashamed; | 10 |
| Her swelling Breasts, and glowing Face, | |
| And every touch enflamed: | |
| My eager Passion I obeyed, | |
| Resolved the Fort to win; | |
| And her fond Heart was soon betrayed, | 15 |
| To yield and let me in. | |
| Then! then! beyond expressing, | |
| Immortal was the Joy; | |
| I knew no greater blessing, | |
| So great a god was I; | 20 |
| And she transported with delight, | |
| Oft prayed me come again; | |
| And kindly vowed that every Night, | |
| She’d rise and let me in. | |
| But, oh! at last she proved with Bern, | 25 |
| And sighing sat and dull; | |
| And I, who had as much concern, | |
| Looked then just like a Fool: | |
| Her lovely Eyes with tears run down, | |
| Repenting her rash Sin; | 30 |
| She sighed and cursed the fatal hour, | |
| That e’er she let me in. | |
| But who could cruelly deceive, | |
| Of from such Beauty part? | |
| I loved her so, I could not leave | 35 |
| The Charmer of my Heart: | |
| But Wedded and concealed the Crime, | |
| Thus all was well again; | |
| And now she thanks the blessed time, | |
| That e’er she let me in. | 40 |