By All Love's Soft, Yet Mighty Powers by John Wilmot

By all love's soft, yet mighty powers,
It is a thing unfit,
That men should fuck in time of flowers,
Or when the smock's beshit.

Fair nasty nymph, be clean and kind,
And all my joys restore;
By using paper still behind,
And sponges for before.

My spotless flames can ne'er decay,
If after every close,
My smoking prick escape the fray,
Without a bloody nose.

If thou would have me true, be wise,
And take to cleanly sinning,
None but fresh lovers' pricks can rise,
At Phyllis in foul linen.

by John Wilmot

Other poems by 'John Wilmot'

The Imperfect Enjoyment

An Allusion to Horace

A Song Of A Young Lady To Her Ancient Lover

The Disabled Debauchee

Signior Dildo

I Cannot Change, As Others Do

Poems to Mulgrave and Scroope

A Ramble in St. James's Park

Constancy

My Dear Mistress Has a Heart

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