Samuel Craven


Can one take moderate direction, 

To its furthest degree and be

Slavish to pleasureless erection?

You, beloved, are not foolhardy

To starve, to waste away thus:

Your prosperity is more than I can handle

with Those bodily riches, you are august.

Whilst I fed you, vineyard’s ripe fruit dangle

From the cluster, a straying berry fell

And rolled down a white hill of fabric

to the entry of your southern dell

Wherein fauns resolve to prick.

So, shall I too visit your grove

Seeking plunder from that trove!   


Samuel Craven is an undergraduate working towards an English degree, with his main interests being the love poetry of the Renaissance, and obscure cult classic movies.  He is a seeker of knowledge, and enjoys the ribald poetry of the Earl of Rochester.

Spread the lust

The Erozine