I dream'd this mortal part of mine
Was Metamorphoz'd to a vine;
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthrall'd my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs and thighs
I with my tendrils did surpize;
Her belly, buttocks, and her waist
By my soft nerv'lits were embrac'd.
About her head
I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seem'd to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curles about her neck did crawl,
And arms and hands they did enthrall:
So that she could not freely stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancy I awoke;
And found (Ah Me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock then like a vine.

--Robert Herrick

Although, I try not to share how I feel about, or what I think are the meanings of the poems I node, I feel like I should say something about this one. Big Thumbs up to Robert Herrick and his use of metaphor and rhyme scheme. I really enjoy his work. A Big Thumbs down to the cultural context that makes rape fantasies okay. I chose to node the poem, because it is a piece of 17th century literature and because it is a good example of Robert Herrick's work, showing us his ability to write and use the language to stir emotion. This poem certainly has stirred my emotion, it makes me uncomfortable. Whereas I doubt that was the goal of Herrick, it should still make him proud that even 300 years after his death people still read and enjoy (sometimes) his work.

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