Classic Poem

I.

'T IS true, thou't open for us both;
Since Oisters, which thou giv'st to me,
Shall fill thy Belly, thro' my Mouth,
By me be swallow'd, but for thee;

II.

Thus op'ning Oisters for me, you
Say true, that for your Pleasure 'tis;
Since that which down my Throat does go,
But more to fill your Belly is;

III.

If a good Op'ner you wou'd be,
Wou'd please your self, ease me of Pain;
Open your Legs, not Shells for me,
Your Oisters shall be yours again:

IV.

Venus , that Fish-Wise yet afore,
Who, some say, from the Sea, did spring,
Cou'd never raise Men's Vigour more,
With Oisters, or her own Old-Ling:

V.

In fine, my precious Oister-Girl!
Whose stinking Ware makes Love abound,
Thy Teeth are the most precious Pearl,
I e'er in op'ning Oisters found;

VI.

Thy Juicy, Salt Commodity,
With thee makes Young and Old to deal;
Which you must part with suddenly,
Lest kept too long, not fit for Sale;

VII.

Lest, like dry stinking Oisters too,
From keeping long, you lose your Juice,
And Mouths, which water'd once for you,
For Want of Moisture, thee refuse.