PHYLLIS, OR, THE PROGRESS OF LOVE by JONATHAN SWIFT

Desponding Phyllis was endued
With ev'ry Talent of a Prude,
She trembled when a Man drew near;
Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear:
If o'er against her you were plac'd
She durst not look above your Waist;
She'd rather take you to her Bed
Than let you see her dress her Head;
In Church you heard her through the Crowd
Repeat the Absolution loud;
In Church, secure behind her Fan
She durst behold that Monster, Man:
There practic'd how to place her Head,
And bit her Lips to make them red:
Or on the Mat devoutly kneeling
Would lift her Eyes up to the Ceiling,
And heave her Bosom unaware
For neighb'ring Beaux to see it bare.
At length a lucky Lover came,
And found Admittance from the Dame.
Suppose all Parties now agreed,
The Writings drawn, the Lawyer fee'd,
The Vicar and the Ring bespoke:
Guess how could such a Match be broke.
See then what Mortals place their Bliss in!
Next morn betimes the Bride was missing,
The Mother scream'd, the Father chid,
Where can this idle Wench be hid?
No news of Phyl. The Bridegroom came,
And thought his Bride had sculk'd for shame,
Because her Father us'd to say
The Girl had such a Bashful way.
Now, John the Butler must be sent
To learn the Way that Phyllis went;
The Groom was wish'd to saddle Crop,
For John must neither light nor stop;
But find her where so'er she fled,
And bring her back, alive or dead.
See here again the Dev'l to do;
For truly John was missing too:
The Horse and Pillion both were gone
Phyllis, it seems, was fled with John.
Old Madam who went up to find
What Papers Phyl had left behind,
A Letter on the Toilet sees
To my much honor'd Father; These:
('Tis always done, Romances tell us,
When Daughters run away with Fellows)
Fill'd with the choicest common-places,
By others us'd in the like Cases.
That, long ago a Fortune-teller
Exactly said what now befell her,
And in a Glass had made her see
A serving-Man of low Degree:
It was her Fate; must be forgiven;
For Marriages are made in Heaven:
His Pardon begg'd, but to be plain,
She'd do't if 'twere to do again.
Thank God, 'twas neither Shame nor Sin,
For John was come of honest Kin:
Love never thinks of Rich and Poor,
She'd beg with John from Door to Door:
Forgive her, if it be a Crime,
She'll never do't another Time,
She ne'er before in all her Life
Once disobey'd him, Maid nor Wife.
One Argument she summ'd up all in,
The Thing was done and past recalling:
And therefore hop'd she would recover
His Favor, when his Passion's over.
She valued not what others thought her;
And was -- His most obedient Daughter.
Fair Maidens all attend the Muse
Who now the wand'ring Pair pursues:
Away they rode in homely Sort
Their Journey long, their Money short;
The loving Couple well bemir'd,
The Horse and both the Riders tir'd:
Their Vittels bad, their Lodging worse,
Phyl cri'd, and John began to curse;
Phyl wish'd, that she had strain'd a Limb
When first she ventur'd out with him.
John wish'd, that he had broke a Leg.
When first for her he quitted Peg.
But what Adventures more befell 'em
The Muse has now not time to tell 'em.
How Jonny wheadled, threaten'd, fawn'd,
Till Phyllis all her Trinkets pawn'd:
How oft she broke her marriage Vows
In kindness to maintain her Spouse;
Till Swains unwholesome spoil'd the Trade,
For now the Surgeon must be paid;
To whom those Perquisites are gone
In Christian Justice due to John.
When Food and Raiment now grew scarce
Fate put a Period to the Farce;
And with exact Poetic Justice:
For John is Landlord, Phyllis Hostess;
They keep at Stains the old blue Boar,
Are Cat and Dog, and Rogue and Whore.

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