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APHRA BEHN
The History of the Nun, 1688

“I was but young,” said Katteriena, “about thirteen, and knew not what to call the new-known pleasure that I felt when even I looked upon the young Arnaldo; my heart would heave whenever he came in view, and my disordered breath came doubly from my bosom; a shivering seized me, and my face grew wan; my thought was at a stand, and sense itself for that short moment lost its faculties. But when he touched me, O, no hunted deer, tired with his flight and just secured in shades, pants with a nimbler motion than my heart! At first I thought the youth had had some magic art to make one faint and tremble at his touches, but he himself, when I accused his cruelty, told me he had no art but awful passion and vowed that when I touched him, he was so: so trembling, so surprised, so charmed, so pleased. When he was present, nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me, then ’twas rather a soft, silent grief that eased itself by sighing and by hoping that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing could divert me, however I strove, however I toiled for mirth; no smile, no joy dwelt in my heart or eyes; I could not feign, so very well I loved, impatient in his absence, I would count the tedious parting hours and pass them off like useless visitants whom we wish were gone. These are the hours where life no business has—at least, a lover’s life. But, O, what minutes seemed the happy hours when on his eyes I gazed and he on mine, and half our conversation lost in sighs—sighs, the soft, moving language of a lover."

JERRY LEIBER & MIKE STOLLER
"Love Potion No. 9", 1959

I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
She’s got a pad down at Thirty-fourth and Vine
Sellin’ little bottles of
Love Potion Number Nine

I told her that I was a flop with chicks
I’ve been this way since 1956
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said, “What you need is
Love Potion Number Nine”

She bent down and turned around and gave mea wink
She said, “I’m gonna mix it up right here in thesink”
It smelled like turpentine, it looked like India ink
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink

I didn’t know if it was day or night
I started kissin’ everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down at Thirty-fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine

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