Awake my fanny, Leave all meaner things.
This man shall prove what rapture swiving brings!
Let us since life can little more supply than just a few good tooks,
and then we die
Expiate freer o'er that loved scene of man.
A mighty mazem amazing for mighty pricks to scan.
A wild, where Paphian thorns promiscuous shoot.
Where flower the monthly rose, but yields no fruit.
Together let us bear this ample field.
Try what the open, what the overt yield.
The latent tracks, the pleasing depths explore.
And my prick clapp'd where thousands had before.
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