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By All Loves Soft Yet Mighty Powers

 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
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