Poet John Wilmot

John Wilmot

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The Imperfect Enjoyment Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGBHII JJBHII KKKIIILLHHMMIIIIIIIB B NNKKHHOOPPIIIIIIIIII OOIIIII

Naked she lay clasped in my longing armsA
I filled with love and she all over charmsA
Both equally inspired with eager fireB
Melting through kindness flaming in desireB
With arms legs lips close clinging to embraceC
She clips me to her breast and sucks me to her faceC
Her nimble tongue Love's lesser lightening playedD
Within my mouth and to my thoughts conveyedD
Swift orders that I should prepare to throwE
The all dissolving thunderbolt belowE
My fluttering soul sprung with the painted kissF
Hangs hovering o'er her balmy brinks of blissF
But whilst her busy hand would guide that partG
Which should convey my soul up to her heartG
In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'erB
Melt into sperm and and spend at every poreH
A touch from any part of her had done'tI
Her hand her foot her very look's a c ntI
-
Smiling she chides in a kind murmuring noiseJ
And from her body wipes the clammy joysJ
When with a thousand kisses wandering o'erB
My panting bosom Is there then no moreH
She cries All this to love and rapture's dueI
Must we not pay a debt to pleasure tooI
-
But I the most forlorn lost man aliveK
To show my wished obedience vainly striveK
I sigh alas and kiss but cannot swiveK
Eager desires confound my first intentI
Succeeding shame does more success preventI
And rage at last confirms me impotentI
Ev'n her fair hand which might bid heat returnL
To frozen age and make cold hermits burnL
Applied to my dead cinder warms no moreH
Than fire to ashes could past flames restoreH
Trembling confused despairing limber dryM
A wishing weak unmoving lump I lieM
This dart of love whose piercing point oft triedI
With virgin blood ten thousand maids have dyedI
Which nature still directed with such artI
That it through every c nt reached every heartI
Stiffly resolved 'twould carelessly invadeI
Woman or man nor aught its fury stayedI
Where'er it pierced a c nt it found or madeI
Now languid lies in this unhappy hourB
Shrunk up and sapless like a withered flowerB
-
Thou treacherous base deserter of my flameN
False to my passion fatal to my fameN
Through what mistaken magic dost thou proveK
So true to lewdness so untrue to loveK
What oyster cinder beggar common whoreH
Didst thou e'er fail in all thy life beforeH
When vice disease and scandal lead the wayO
With what officious haste dost thou obeyO
Like a rude roaring hector in the streetsP
Who scuffles cuffs and justles all he meetsP
But if his king or country claim his aidI
The rakehell villain shrinks and hides his headI
Ev'n so thy brutal valour is displayedI
Breaks every stew does each small whore invadeI
But when great Love the onset does commandI
Base recreant to thy prince thou dar'st not standI
Worst part of me and henceforth hated mostI
Through all the town a common f cking postI
On whom each whore relieves her tingling c ntI
As hogs do rub themselves on gates and gruntI
May'st thou to ravenous chancres be a preyO
Or in consuming weepings waste awayO
May strangury and stone thy days attendI
May'st thou ne'er piss who did refuse to spendI
When all my joys did on false thee dependI
And may ten thousand abler pricks agreeI
To do the wronged Corinna right for theeI

John Wilmot



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About The Imperfect Enjoyment

The Imperfect Enjoyment is a poem by John Wilmot. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.


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