The Boudoir No. 2

THE DREAM

She lay all naked in her bed,

And I myself lay by;

No veil, but curtains there were spread,

No covering but I.

Her head upon her shoulder seeks

To lean in careless wise;

All full of blushes were her cheeks,

And wishes in her eyes.

The blood still flushing in her face,

As on a message came;

To show that in another place,

It meant another game.

Her cherry lips, soft, sweet, and fair,

Millions of kisses crown;

Which, ripe and uncrop't, dangled there,

And weigh'd the branches down.

Her breast that lay full swell'd and high,

Bred pleasant pain in me;

For all the world I did defy,

For that felicity.

Her thighs and belly white and neat,

To me were only shown;

To have seen such meat, and not to have eat,

Would've anger'd any stone.

Her thighs lay up, but gently bent.

And all was hollow under,

As if, on easy terms, they meant

To fall unforc'd asunder.

Just so the Cyprian queen did lie,

Expecting in her bow'r,

When too long time the boy did stay

Beyond his promis'd hour.

Dull clown, said she, dost thou delay

This proffer'd bliss to take;

Can'st thou not find some other way,

Similitude to make?

Mad with delight, I thundered in,

And threw my arms about her;

But pox take it, it prov'd a dream,

I wak'd and — without her.