Quoth the Duchess of Cleveland to counselor Knight,"I'd fain have a prick, knew I how to come by't.
I desire you'll be secret and give your advice:
Though c*** be not coy, reputation is nice."
"To some cellar in Sodom Your Grace must retire
Where porters with black-pots sit round a coal fire;
There open your case, and Your Grace cannot fail
Of a dozen of pricks for a dozen of ale."
"Is't so?" quoth the Duchess. "Aye, by God!" quoth the whore.
"Then give me the key that unlocks the back door,
For I'd rather be f***** by porters and carmen
Than thus be abused by Churchill and Jermyn."
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God love Wilmot
From guest jedmalkavian (contact)
even more than 300 years after his death, the 2nd Earl of Rochester can bring a smile to our faces at his witty, non-forced satire of the so called "aristocrats" of his age. Rest in peace, Johnny boy. -
This has the feel of a limerick rather than erotica, but it was a humorous read. A bit of polititcal satire resting on sexy tantalizing language.
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