The Sale Of Loves.

A poem by Thomas Moore

I dreamt that, in the Paphian groves,
My nets by moonlight laying,
I caught a flight of wanton Loves,
Among the rose-beds playing.
Some just had left their silvery shell,
While some were full in feather;
So pretty a lot of Loves to sell,
Were never yet strung together.
Come buy my Loves,
Come buy my Loves,
Ye dames and rose-lipped misses!--
They're new and bright,
The cost is light,
For the coin of this isle is kisses.

First Cloris came, with looks sedate.
The coin on her lips was ready;
"I buy," quoth she, "my Love by weight,
"Full grown, if you please, and steady."
"Let mine be light," said Fanny, "pray--
"Such lasting toys undo one;
"A light little Love that will last to-day,--
"To-morrow I'll sport a new one."
Come buy my Loves,
Come buy my Loves,
Ye dames and rose-lipped misses!--
There's some will keep,
Some light and cheap
At from ten to twenty kisses.

The learned Prue took a pert young thing,
To divert her virgin Muse with,
And pluck sometimes a quill from his wing.
To indite her billet-doux with,
Poor Cloe would give for a well-fledged pair
Her only eye, if you'd ask it;
And Tabitha begged, old toothless fair.
For the youngest Love in the basket.
Come buy my Loves, etc.

But one was left, when Susan came,
One worth them all together;
At sight of her dear looks of shame,
He smiled and pruned his feather.
She wished the boy--'twas more than whim--
Her looks, her sighs betrayed it;
But kisses were not enough for him,
I asked a heart and she paid it!
Good-by, my Loves,
Good-by, my Loves,
'Twould make you smile to've seen us
First, trade for this
Sweet child of bliss,
And then nurse the boy between us.

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