IN former days, just by Cythera town A monastery was, of some renown, With nuns the queens of beauty filled the place, And gay gallants you easily might trace. The courtier, citizen, and parson too, The doctor and the bachelor you'd view, With eager steps:--all visits thither made; And 'mong the latter, one (a pleasing blade) Had free access: was thought a prudent friend, Who might to sisters many comforts lend; Was always closely shaved and nicely dressed; And ev'ry thing he said was well expressed; The breath of scandal, howsoever pat, Ne'er lighted on his neat cravat nor hat.
TWO nuns alternatively, from the youth; Experienced many services, in truth; The one had recently a novice been; Few months had passed since she complete was seen; The other still the dress of novice wore; The youngest's age was seventeen years, not more Time doubtless very proper (to be plain) Love's wily thesis fully to sustain: The bachelor so well the fair had taught, And they so earnestly the science sought, That by experience both the art had learned, And ev'ry thing most perfectly discerned.
THESE sisters eagerly had made one day An assignation with the lover gay; To have the entertainment quite complete, They'd Bacchus, Ceres too, who Venus greet: With perfect neatness all the meats were served, And naught from grace and elegancy swerved; The wines, the custards, jellies, creams, and ice: The decorations, ev'ry thing was nice; What pleasing objects and delights were viewed! The room with sweetest flow'rs fair Flora strewed; A sort of garden o'er the linen traced Here lakes of love:--there names entwined were placed; Magnificence like this the nuns admired, And such amusements ardently desired. Their beauty too incited to be free; A thousand matters filled their souls with glee; In height the belles were pretty much the same Like alabaster fair; of perfect frame; In num'rous corners Cupid nestling lay: Beneath a stomacher he'd slyly play, A veil or scapulary, this or that, Where least the eye of day perceived he sat, Unless a lover called to mystick bow'rs, Where he might hearts entwine with chains of flow'rs; A thousand times a day the urchin flew, With open arms the sisters to pursue; Their charms were such in ev'ry air and look, Both (one by one) he for his mother took.