Paid for Peeping : A POEM , Occasion'd by a Peeping hole into a Chamber where a Beautiful and Virtuous young Lady Lodg'd , through which undiscover'd , I could observe all her Actions . I. ACTAEON thus admiring stood , To see bright Cynthia bless the Flood With her Soul charming naked Limbs : He sigh'd , and wish'd for such a Wife , Till Peeping cost the Fool his Life , Not getting further off betimes . II . Though no such dreadful Fate I had , Nor yet so dear for Peeping paid ; Nor felt such strange and fatal smart , Though all my Stars propitious stood , To save the shedding of my Blood , Insensibly I lost my Heart . III . Sweet Innocence well guarded lay To Charm my Peeping Soul away , With Beauties penetrating Rays ; My wanton Thoughts that hop'd to see , Something well worthy Raillery , Were wholly taken up with Praise . IV . Sometimes I found her close at Pray'r , And sometimes Combing of her Hair , Which on her Back did curling lye ; Sometimes with Neck and Breasts all bare She stood as she was planted there , My Heart to Murder through my Eye . V. Yet shy of every Nudity , So Modest that she seem'd to me Of such a tim'rous bashful Soul , As if she had discover'd been , Or that she really had seen Me fondly peeping through the hole . VI . The Satyr , as old Tales recount , Gaz'd on Diana in the Fount , Besotted with a brutish Passion : But mine was dash'd from that degree , For all the brutal part in me , Was turn'd to humble Adoration . VII . Even I , was to Devotion bent , Seeing that dear , that pretty Saint With Providence so oft confer ; Yet when to Heaven I sent my Pray'r , Before it had got half way there , My wandring Thoughts flew down to her . VIII . Then sometimes smother'd Zeal would fire , Bursting to flashes of desire , I envied Heaven the time she pray'd ; Methought that Face , that blooming Youth , Those lovely Eyes , that pretty Mouth , Were for Eternal Kisses made . IX . Sometimes she'd laugh and talk of Love , Sometimes on graver Matters prove , That she well-skill'd in Books had been ; Sometimes she'd Read , and sometimes Write , Her little Hands no Snow so white , Nor any River-Swan so clean . X. Boldly , not knowing her Abuse , She'd put her Stockings on and Shooes , Then Roll a Gartar above Knee , Her Foot and Leg , and tempting Thigh , And every Beauty that was by , All carelesly expos'd to me . XI . And many a Sacred Sunday Morn , Naked as ever she was born , Ere she was ready to be dress'd , I've seen her put clean Linnen on , Whilst to my greedy Eye was shown More Beauty than can be express'd . XII . Children are told that Maids are free From Nature's Liquid Quality , Imposing thus on Childish Wit ; And Faith , had I not seen the Pot , She was so Neat I should have thought , She had done nothing else but spet . XIII . To free my self from all dispute , This Scruple better to confute , I once resolv'd to press more near ; But ah , here ended all my Joys , She found my Cranny , heard my Noise , And stood half dead 'twixt Shame and Fear . XIV . As in some fat and plashy Ground , A Fowler has a Covey found , All feeding at the Noon of day ; By his Robust and blund'ring Noise , The Game has rais'd , they mount the Skies , And frighted , post with speed away : XV. So from that hour no Game was seen , No Fairy Land , nor Fairy Queen , Did ever since that time appear ; Closestool was in the Closet shut , The Night-shift gone , and the dear Pot , Barb'rously hid the Lord knows where . XVI . No Wonders now were seen in Bed , Before my Chink a Screen was spread , Scarce any Light the Room adorns ; And now the finest sight I had Was Squinty Fegue , the dirty Maid , In th' Chimney cutting of her Corns . XVII . Who such a Change did ever know , Who but the Devil e'r fell so low , That in such state of bliss had been : For though my Eyes from Heaven must part , The hole dam'd up , yet my poor Heart Was still close Pris'ner kept within . XVIII . But when I heard she would be gone , Low as her Feet I threw me down , And beg'd her not to leave the place ; But now , alas , too well she knew My Heart-strings after her she drew , And thus revil'd me to my face . XIX . Rather my Glass of Life shall run , In Caves that never saw the Sun , Than here with thee , thou worst of Men : Thee Traytor to despair I doom , He that has oagled once my B— Shall never see my Face agen . XX . Like Bolts sent from the sultry South , This Thunder from her heavenly Mouth , On my unguarded Heart did fall So fierce , that in my tortur'd mind , Possess'd with Rage , I once design'd To knock my Head against the Wall . XXI . Then Adam the first Man I curst , That brought the Mischief in at first To traffick with forbidden Joys ; Else Beauty's World had naked been , Nor had I for my peeping Sin , Like him been banish'd Paradise .