Wooing
Come! Wrap my wrists, and tie them tight.
Come! Snap your straps, my back to bite.
Come! Grasp my groin with muscled might:
These pains must press me now, tonight!
No kind caress nor bold embrace,
No comely kiss afflict my face;
No gentle gestures! Pep the pace –
My heart must heave, must roar and race!
Make weeping welts your calling card,
And beat the bits that may be marred!
With croaking cry and skin all scarred,
Come! Whip me well, and hurt me hard!
If strong your strokes the deeds to do,
If I survive the thrashing through,
Your turn for treatment comes on cue:
I’ll wreak my rough abuse on you!