Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg: A Fair Nymph Scorning a Black Boy Courting Her Cleveland

Nymph	Stand off, and let me take Air, Why should the smoke pursue the fair?
Boy	My Face is smoke, thence may be guest What Flames within have scorch'd my breast.
Nymph	Thy flaming Love I cannot view, For the dark Lanthorn of thy Hue.
Boy	And yet this Lanthorn keeps Love's Taper Surer than your's that's of white Paper. What ever Midnight can be here, The Moon-shine of your Face will clear.
Nymph	My Moon of an Eclipse is 'fraid; If thou should'st interpose thy Shade.
Boy	Yet one thing, Sweet-heart, I will ask, Take me for a new fashion'd Mask.
Nymph	Done: but my Bargain shall be this, I'll throw my mask off when I kiss.
Boy	Our curl'd Embraces shall delight To checker Limbs with black and white.
Nymph	Thy ink, my Paper, make me guess Our Nuptial-bed will prove a Press; And in our Sports, if any come, They'l read a wanton Epigram.
Boy	Why should my Black thy Love impair? Let the dark Shop commend the Ware; Or if thy Love from black forbears, I'll strive to wash it off with Tears.
Nymph	Spare fruitless Tears, since thou must needs Still wear about thy mourning Weeds. Tears can no more affection win, Than wash thy Æthiopian Skin.

Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg A Fair Nymph Scorning a Black Boy Courting Her, John Cleveland