To gain my Pence, thou woud'st sit up with me,
To gain more, let me but lie down with thee;
You sit up long, when you shou'd lie a-long,
Which wou'd not do your Beauty so much wrong;
If you, to gain my Money of me, chuse
Your Sleep a Nights, so willingly to lose;
Then, sit not up, but go to Bed with me,
The Mistress of all that I have, to be;
If you wou'd strip me, do't a better Way,
My Purse, Heart, win, at a more pleasant Play,
Which you'll do, if your Breech you'll to them lay;
You'll lose your Fortune by your Winnings now,
Since, by your Sitting up at Cards, (you know)
Your Stock of Beauty you must lose, by which,
You may, by playing with me, grow more Rich;
For Women, (it is certain) gain more Riches,
When they to keep their Bubbles, lose their Breeches;
You, sitting up with others, lose (you know)
Your Money, Credit, Time, and Beauty too;
So, whilst your Fortune you'd repair by Play,
You, by it, bring your Beauty to decay;
Lose both your Charms, your Pleasure, Honour too,
By loving Gold, for Mercenary go;
Nay, lose your Time, which, at this time shou'd be,
More precious than thy Fame, or Gold, to thee;
Who hast not much more Time (we may suppose)
Now left thee (my Dear Gamesome Dame!) to lose;
Cheat not your self of Pleasure by your Play,
Since you love vent'ring all you have (they say)
Your Body venture against mine, to lay;
Then all about me, wou't thou get from me,
If I no Shuffling, Cutting, find by thee;
By which, too hard at our Sport, wou'dst thou be
For me; push freely with me, then my Dear!
My Bragging of my Winnings, never fear;
Which makes the Gamesome, Vent'rous, Pushing She,
To Play with Men, the backwarder to be;
But I, ne'er of Good Fortune (you must know)
Brag, as oft Honour's, and Love's Pushers do,
But, at my Good Luck, silently rejoice,
And only, when I lose Hopes, make a Noise.