SONG (SYLVIA THE FAIR, IN THE BLOOM OF FIFTEEN) John Dryden (1631-1700)
Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen, Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green: She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed By the towsing and tumbling and touching her breast: She saw the men eager, but was at a loss What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close; By their praying and whining, And clasping and twining, And panting and wishing, And sighing and kissing, And sighing and kissing so close.
"Ah!" she cried, "ah, for a languishing maid In a country of Christians to die without aid! Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer* at least, Or a Protestant parson, or Catholic priest, To instruct a young virgin that is at a loss What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close; By their praying and whining, And clasping and twining, And panting and wishing, And sighing and kissing, And sighing and kissing so close."
Cupid in shape of a swain did appear; He saw the sad wound, and in pity drew near; Then showed her his arrow, and bid her not fear, For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear; When the balm was infused, she was not at a loss What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close; By their praying and whining, And clasping and twining, And panting and wishing, And sighing and kissing, And sighing and kissing so close.
[Sung by Ed McCurdy on "The Best of Dalliance," Rhino Handmade CD #7835, 2004.]