“Let us pile high the fire my dear.

Come you near

and warm the cockles of your heart.

Let us practice love’s art.

Draw closer and sit upon my knee.

Let us make free

like the amorous swan

for time rolls on

and desire, ‘tis soon gone.

 

“Sir

My mother warned me to beware

Of poets who pretty verses spin

Lest they lead me into sin.

Good night to you noble sir

I must be off and wash my hair”.