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A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover
John Wilmot
LibriVox; poetry; wilmot; romance
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- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by AR
A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by John Wilmot Ancient person, for whom I all the flattering youth defy. Long be it ere thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, Ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie,
Brooding kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind showers in autumn fall, And a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, Ancient person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name In our sex would be counted shame, By ages frozen grasp possessed, From their ice shall be released,
And soothed by my reviving hand, In former warmth and vigor stand. All a lover's wish can reach, For thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve All that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, Ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by DII
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover by John Wilmot. Ancient person, for whom I, O the flattering youth, defy! Long be it o'er thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, which like barren furrows lie,
In kissing kisses I will pour, shall thy youthful heart restore. Such can sure as in autumn fall, and the second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, ancient person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name in our sex would be gone to shame, By ages frozen grass possessed, from their eyes shall be released,
And suited by my reviving hand, in former warmth and vigour stand. All a lover's wish can reach, for thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve, all that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by DRH
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover By John Wilmot Read for LibriVox.org by Don Hutchins Pacific Palisades, California Ancient person for whom I, All the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, Aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, Ancient person of my heart,
On thy withered lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie, Roading kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind showers in autumn fall, And a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, Ancient person of my heart, Thou nobler parts, which but to name, In our sex would be counted shame,
Thy ages frozen, grass possessed, From their ice shall be released, And soothed by my reviving hand, In former warmth and vigour stand, All a lover's wish can reach, For thy joy my love shall teach, And therefore thy pleasure shall improve, All that art can add to love, Yet still I love thee without art, Ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by JC
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover by John Wilmot. Ancient person, for whom I all the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, which like barren furrows lie,
Giving kisses I will pour, shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind shahs in autumn fall, and a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, ancient person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name in our sex Would be counted shame, By ages frozen grasp possessed, from their ice Shall be released, and, soothed by my
reviving hand, In former warmth and vigour stand. All a lover's wish can reach, for thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve all that art can add to love, Yet still I love thee without art, ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by JSS
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover. Ancient person, for whom I, all the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, which like barren furrows lie,
Making kisses I will pour, shall thy youthful heart restore. Such kind showers in autumn fall, in a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, ancient person of my heart. Thy noble parts, which but to name, in our sex would be counted shame, By ages frozen, grasps possessed, from their eyes shall be relished,
And soothed by my reviving hand, in former warmth and vigorous stand, All a lover's wish can reach, for thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve, all that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by RN
A song of a young lady To her ancient lover By John Wilmot Ancient person, for whom I, All the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, Aching, shaking, crazy cold, But still continue as thou art, Ancient person of my heart.
On thy withered lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie, Ruding kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind showers in autumn fall, And a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, Ancient person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name, In our sex would be counted shame,
Thy ages frozen grasp possessed, From their ice shall be released, And soothed by my reviving hand, In former warmth and vigor stand, All a lover's wish can reach, For thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve, All that art can add to love, Yet still I love thee without art, Ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by TG
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover, by John Wilmot. Ancient person, for whom I all the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy, cold, But still continue as thou art, ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, which like barren furrows lie,
Lifting kisses I will pour, shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind showers in autumn fall, and a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, ancient person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name, in our sex would be counted shame, By ages frozen grasp possessed, from their ice shall be released,
And soothed by my reviving hand, in former warmth and vigor stand, All a lover's wish can reach, for thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve, all that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, ancient person of my heart.
- A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover - Read by VG
A song of a young lady to her ancient lover. By John Wilmot. Read for LibriVox.org by Victoria Grace. Ancient person, for whom I, all the flattering youth, defy. Long be it ere thou grow old, aching, shaking, crazy, cold,
But still continue as thou art, ancient person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, which like barren furrows lie, Scrooding kisses I will pour, shall thy youthful heart restore. Such kind showers in autumn fall, and a second spring recall, Nor from thee will ever part, ancient person of my heart.
Thy nobler parts which but to name in our sex would be counted, shame. By ages, frozen grasp possessed, from their ice shall be released, And soothed by my reviving hand, in former warmth and vigor stand. All a lover's wish can reach, for thy joy my love shall teach, And for thy pleasure shall improve.
All that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, ancient person of my heart.
