To A Gash

By a freshly whipped slave















Oh stinging gash
Caused by the lash
I prithee, do not linger!
For thou dost map
A red raw gap
For my pretty whipper’s finger.

Her nail may split
The place she hit
And raise a bloody river.
I then shall scream
As blood-red stream
Descends my back a-quiver.

Oh pity pray!
Oh pain! Oh flay!
My mistress is all-powerful.
Her whip has meant
My back is spent
And I am truly sorrowful.

I kiss her feet
And beg and bleat
As sock and shoe I cradle.
She laughs and jokes
As wounds she pokes.
To flee I am unable!

And so, red ridge
Thou art a bridge
T’ward ever greater pain.
But my greatest fear,
If you disappear -
I shall be lashed again!

So stay, sweet sore
Retreat no more!
The amusement you provide
May stay my brain
From further pain
And spare my whippèd hide!

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