Upon an Hermophrodite

Sir , or Madame, chuse you whether,
Nature twists you both together:
And makes thy soule two garbes confess,
Both peticoat and breeches-dress.
Thus we chastise the God of Wine
With water that is Feminine,
Untill the cooler Nymph abate
His wrath, and so concorporate.
Adam till his rib was lost,
Had both Sexes thus ingrost:
When providence our Sire did cleave,
And out of Adam carved Eve ,
Then did man 'bout Wedlock treat
To make his body up compleat:
Thus Matrimony speakes but Thee
In a grave solemnity,
For man and wife make but one right
Canonicall Hermophrodite .
Ravell thy body, and I finde
In every limb a double kinde.
Who would not thinke that Head a paire,
That breeds such faction in the haire?
One halfe so churlish in the touch,
That rather then endure so much,
I would my tender limbes apparell
In Regulus his nailed barrell:
But the other halfe so small,
And so amorous withall,
That Cupid thinks each haire doth grow
A string for his invis'ble Bow.
When I looke babies in thine eyes,
Here Venus , there Adonis lyes.
And though thy beauty be high noone,
Thy Orbe containes both Sun and Moone.
How many melting kisses skip
'Twixt thy Male and Female lip?
'Twixt thy upper brush of haire
And thy nether beards dispaire.
When thou speak'st, I would not wrong
Thy sweetnesse with a double tongue:
But in every single sound
A perfect Dialogue is found.
Thy breasts distinguish one another,
This the sister, that the brother.
When thou joyn'st hands, my eare still fancies
The Nuptiall sound, I Iohn take Frances :
Feele but the difference, soft and rough,
This a Gantlet, that a Muffe:
Had sly Ulysses , at the sack
Of Troy , brought thee his Pedlers pack,
And weapons too to know Achilles
From King Lycomedes' Phillis ,
His plot had fail'd; this hand would feele
The Needle, that the warlike steele.
When musick doth thy pace advance,
Thy right legge takes thy left to dance.
Nor is 't a Galliard danc't by one,
But a mixt dance, though alone.
Thus everie heteroclite part
Changes gender, but thy heart.
Nay those which modesty can meane,
And dare not speake, are Epicoene;
That Gamester needs must over-come,
That can play both Tib and Tom.
Thus did natures mintage vary,
Coyning thee a Philip and Mary .
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