id,dictionary,theme,reviewed_on,metaphor,created_at,provenance,comments,work_id,text,context,updated_at 10030,Impression,"",,"""Dancing, Singing, Swearing, Impudence, / Can make Impressions upon easie sense""",2005-05-20 00:00:00 UTC,"Searching ""thought"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)","",3873,"Permit me now Dear Strephon, to relate,
The Tricks and Wiles of Whores of Second Rate;
The Play-house Punks, who in a loose Undress,
Each Night receive some Cullies soft Address;
Reduc'd perhaps to the last poor half Crown,
A tawdry Gown and Petticoat put on,
Go to the House, where they demurely sit
Angling for Bubbles, in the noisy Pit:
Not Turks by Turbants, Spaniards by their Hats,
Nor Quakers by Diminutive Cravats
Are better known, than is the Tamdry Crack
By Vizor-Mask, and Rigging on her Back:
The Play-house is their place of Traffick, where
Nightly they sit, to sell their Rotten Ware;
Tho' done in silence and without a Cryer,
Yet he that bids the most, is still the Buyer;
For while he nibbles at her Am'rous Trap,
She gets the Mony, but he gets the Clap.
Intrencht in Vizor Mask they Giggling sit,
And throw designing Looks about the Pit,
Neglecting wholly what the Actors say,
'Tis their least business there to see the Play:
But if some unexperienc'd Youth by chance,
Bestows upon 'em an obliging Glance,
And in his Rustick manner offers Love,
These slow Advances, they know how t'improve;
Like Stubborn Towns, when first they view the Foe,
Some signs of vigorous Resistance show,
Till prest too hard by their opponent Fate,
Make Terms, and freely then Capitulate.
So these at first appear too nice and coy,
And scorn the kind pretences of the Boy;
Laugh loud to show their Wit, and in the Strife,
Act Modesty and Vertue to the Life.
Th' unthinking Lad more fond by distance grown,
Bears up his Thoughts, and briskly pushes on,
Till they at last contented to comply,
(As overcome by Importunity)
Accept a Coach (still Maskt and in Disguise)
Whilst he with his new gotten Female Prize
To Tavern hastning, where a Splendid Treat,
Opens his Eyes and quickly shews the Cheat;
Their Seeming Vertue off with Mask is thrown,
And they appear True Women of the Town.
If Dancing, Singing, Swearing, Impudence,
Can make Impressions upon easie sense,

And She, he thought a Goddess just before,
Now proves an Errant Rampant true bred VVhore:
And in the Height of VVine, if he's but willing
Will soon unrig her self, for one poor Shilling.
These sights his lustful Fever serve to cure,
Or else like Oyl to Fire, inflame it more;
So doubly flusht with VVine and Love at last,
Their fatal Kindness he attempts to tast:
Fatal indeed, but too too often prove,
These stollen snatches of unlawful Love;
Delusions charm his reason for a while,
And ev'ry thing about him seems to smile;
Pleas'd with the Raptures of his new found Bliss,
Fancies there is no other Paradice:
But sober Reason must at last take place,
And he, tho' late, perceives his own disgrace;
For when he lay intranc'd in Celia's Lap,
He little thought 'twould terminate in Clap:
So finds the total Sum of all his gains
Are Saffold's Pills, to Cure all sorts of Pains.","",2009-09-14 19:34:39 UTC