SHE shakes her booty, what a sight!
Her protest climbs; she stamps and cries
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meets in her ass and tearful eyes;
This mellow’d brat now so contrite
Was Heaven to spank and to chastise.
One smack the more, one stroke the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves of lust and of distress
Are sweeping keenly o’er her face,
Where thoughts obscenely sweet express
How hot, how wet their dwelling-place.
And on those cheeks once white as snow
So soft, so sore, yet eloquent,
The stripes between the tints that glow,
But promise nights in passion spent,—
A mind afire with need below,
A heart that’s far from innocent.