She Raise and Loot Me In by Francis Sempill

The night her silent sable wore,
And gloomy were the skies;
Of glitt’ring stars appear’d no more
Than those in Nelly’s eyes.
When at her father’s yate I knock’d,
Where I had often been,
She, shrouded only with her smock,
Arose and loot me in.

Fast lock’d within her close embrace,
She trembling stood asham’d;
Her swelling breast, and glowing face,
And ev’ry touch inflam’d.
My eager passion I obey’d,
Resolv’d the fort to win,
And her fond heart was soon betray’d
To yield and let me in.

Then, then, beyond expressing,
Transporting was the joy;
I knew no greater blessing.
So bless’d a man was I.
And she, all ravish’d with delight,
Bid me oft come again;
And kindly vow’d, that every night
She’d rise and let me in.

But ah! at last she prov’d with bairn,
And sighing sat and dull,
And I, that was as much concern’d,
Look’d e’en just like a fool.
Her lovely eyes with tears ran o’er,
Repenting her rash sin;
She sigh’d, and curs’d the fatal hour
That e’er she loot me in.

But who could cruelly deceive,
Or from such beauty part?
I lov’d her so, I could not leave
The charmer of my heart;
But wedded, and conceal’d our crime:
Thus all was well again,
And now she thanks the happy time
That e’er she loot me in.

From: Paterson, James (ed.), The Poems of the Sempills of Beltrees, now first collected, with notes and biographical notices of their lives, 1849, Thomas George Stevenson: Edinburgh, pp. 71-72.
(https://archive.org/stream/poemsofsempillso01semp#page/70/mode/2up)

Date: c1640

By: Francis Sempill (?1616-1682)

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