The Harlot. A Paraphrase on the 7th of Proverbs

Young Man, let what I speak attention draw,
Observe it as you wou'd Heav'n's strictest Law;
Hear my Commands and weave 'em in thy heart,
Make 'em both one that they may never part;
Do this, you'l quickly find the good effect,
But swift destruction follows the neglect.
To Wisdom say, thou my fair Sister art,
My Hope, my Guide, and Goddess of my Heart,
Dearer than Life, with Life I'd sooner part;
Discretion too thy near Relation call;
Get these (O happy Youth!) and thou hast all;
No better Gift can bounteous Heav'n bestow,
No safer Guard from human ills below:
Envy may hiss, but she can do no harm,
She flies, she dies before the pow'rful charm.
Particularly, it will keep thee free
From the loose Strumpet's specious Flatt'ry,
Whose words like Oyl on Rivers glide along,
Her words more tuneful than the Siren's Song;
She makes Perdition pleasing with the Musick of her Tongue:
Keep, keep from her Inhospitable Coast,
But once incline to hear her, you are lost;
Regret, Remorse, Repentance come too late,
Nought but a wonder can reverse your Fate;
While on her wanton Breast your head you lay,
For one thought that does cry, Rise, Come away,
You'l have ten thousand pressing you to stay:
But let the Wretches Fate which here is shown,
Encline you to be careful of your own.
Just in the close and shutting up of day,
When the last gleams were hurrying swift away;
The Harlots hour their subtle Trains to lay;
As in my Window I stood leaning out,
Pensive and thoughtful, gazing round about,
Among the Youths (behold!) a Wretch I spy'd,
Loose, foolish, vain, nor strove his guilt to hide,
What shou'd have been his shame he made his Pride;
For to his Drab's Apartment he was bent,
His glowing Cheeks discover'd his intent;
Pleas'd with the thought, he scarcely touch'd the ground,
But, like a Mountain-Roe did leap and bound:
But (lo!) she met him, coming forth to see
For some kind Friend of her Fraternity;
For any Fop had serv'd as well as He:
Those that are learn'd and known to gain by sin,
Must trade as well without doors as within;
At every Corner of the street they ply,
To angle Coxcombs, which in shoals glide by,
As soon as e're the Bait appears in sight,
Eager to be beguil'd, the Gudgeons bite:
Have you e're seen (what time the Seasons yield
Suck kind of sports) a Spaniel range the Field,
And mark't what pains he takes to spring his Game?
Th' industrious ranging Drab is just the same:
Thus, streight, the Youth she spies, and round him cast
Her snowy Arms, she prest, she held him fast,
And with a warm Lascivious fierce embrace,
Laid Cheek to Cheek and suckt him to her Face:
Bare were her Breasts, and Careless her attire,
Learn'd in the Art how to enflame desire,
And kindle what was found too apt to take the Fire;
Harlot throughout, each motion that she made
Show'd her true Punk, and perfect in her Trade:
But after some fond looks and dalliance past,
Thus the fair faithless tun'd her Tongue at last.

'Tis Peace (said she) 'tis Peace and Love I bring,
This day I've paid my vows and made my Offering,
And therefore came I forth; with thee to meet,
Thus late, and thus alone, I rove the street;
The dangers of the night not frighten me,
At least, they vanish at the sight of Thee:
Without thee what a tedious night I'd past?
And who knows too but it had been my last?
Depriv'd of thee must have strange Tortures wrought,
And plung'd me deep in Melancholy Thought;
But I have found thee, long I've wisht it so,
And it shall longer be before I let thee go.
I've deck't (my Love) I've deck't my Bed with Flowers,
Not sweeter were the Gods delicious Bow'rs;
With costly Tap'stry I have hung my room,
Not richer ever stretch't the Tyrian Loom;
There Venus is in all her Postures wrought,
And how Loves Pleasure she with hazard sought,
Surprizing to the Eye! transporting to the thought!
Perfum'd with richest Scents, such as inspire
Gay Loves and melting Ioy, and soft desire!
Come then, away, and take of Love our fill;
In Passion, such as ours, there is no ill:
Let aged Matrons rail, and Gown-men preach,
They are too wise to practise what they teach:
Away! come let me plunge into thy Arms,
Find you fresh Love, and I'll create fresh Charms:
Come, till the Morning let us sport and play,
Nor rise the sooner for it's being day.
Nor let the thought of Husband pall your Ioy,
He's now far off upon a grand employ,
Cash he has took long Charges to defray,
And will not come till his appointed day;
And O (ye Gods!) I wish he never may;
My right in him I'd willingly resign,
Millions of his embraces are but one of thine:
But ah! the hours have Wings, away! away!
Let not the pretious time be lost when Love and Pleasure stay.

With her fair Speech she forc'd him soon to yield,
But force is needless when we quit the field;
Too credulous, her Flatt'ry he believ'd,
Nor was he the first Fool that she deceiv'd:
She turns, he follows, nor his Joy conceals,
Nor sees destruction dog him at the heels:
As Oxen to the Slaughter (wretched State!)
So on he walks, unmindful of his Fate;
Or as a Vagrant to Correction goes,
To lasting scorn he does his Fame expose:
As Birds hast to the snare their food to find,
And think not that their ruin is design'd;
So a Dart strikes him through, a fatal Knife,
And lets him see h' has fool'd away his Life:
Disease o'ertakes him, makes his health a prey,
Meagre and wan he looks that once was gay,
His Winter his December comes in May:
Too late his Lustful error's understood,
He feels her Poxt Embraces in his tainted Blood:
With aches crampt, and strong Convulsions torn,
Sciaticas too grievous to be born,
Till the Gout comes, the pains of Hell scarce worse,
And his last Breath evaporates in a Curse.
Hear me (O Youth) and to my words attend,
Despise 'em not because I am a Friend,
But persevere in good, and glory crowns the end:
Let not thy Footsteps to her Paths decline;
She's worse than Devil though she seems divine:
Strip her but of her Silk, her Patch and Paint,
And see how fit she's then to make a Saint;
Then mark her shrivel'd Face and sallow Skin,
Rank all without, and rotten all within:
And yet, alas! (such Charms she does display)
The rich, the noble, witty and the gay,
The great, the strong, have been, by turns, her prey;
Warriours themselves have by her Arts been slain,
Have lain down by her, but ne'r rose again:
Her House is the destructive path to sin,
From whence there's no return when once y'are in,
Down to the Courts of deepest Hell it goes:
O don't thy Safety to this Rock expose!
'Tis but a Kiss you gain, and 'tis a Soul you lose!