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CYTHERA'S HYMNAL;
OR,
FLAKES FROM THE FORESKIN.
A COLLECTION OF
icings, |locmL,|lurscrn ilhnmcs, (Quiirtittics,
ETC., ETC.
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED,
OXFORD:
Printed at the University Press,
For the Society for Promoting Useful Knowledge.
MDCCCLXX.
[Cum Privilege,]
CYTIIERA'S HYMNAL.
TI1E LOVER'S LAMENT.
Sir Walter Scott's Ballad,
My wretched fate I needs must own,
Though bootless bo the theme,
I loved, and thought 1 was again
Beloved, but Twas a dream:
For as the spell was easy cast,
So it was easy broke,
And my romantic dream of love
Soon ended all in smoke !
Down Regent Street one night I strolled,
And met a blooming lass,
With two such swelling bubs, or breasts,
And largo backside, or arse;
She swore she loved me more than life,
My cods began to stroke,
Surely, cried 1, such love as this
Can never end in smoke t
She took me home—we went to bed—
She skewed me how to do it»
«Now keep good time,” she said, “and try
To shove a hole right through it,”
Reposing when the feat was o'er,
in sweat 1 lay in soak,
And steaming like a dunghill, cried,
This seems to end in smoke!
4 Oar mutual vows we did exchange, 4 6 & 10 12 14 THE YOUNG THEOLOGIAN'S DEKAM. m Straightway be unfolded his tale When in bed witii year Polly or Kelly* 24 26 A student by that faithful hound, To keep the horn not overworn 32 3L 36 38 42 u 4G 48 50 Saint Denis of Franoe was a rollicking Saint, Sir#, 51 f>f> 58 60 €>2 64 'Tis true a thick paste has grown up on jour tongue, 68 70 There was a young man of Penzance u There was a young lady of Lee, 78 Su 82 m
Our mutual vows we did exchange,
Whieh wo both swore to keep,.
A ml after divers pleasant lmg%
We kissed ourselves to sleep*
But ah ! how soon the bubble - burst,
Forjnsfc in time I woke
To see my browbeat, boots, and. purse
Were vanishing like smola;,
My sweetheart hold them, and, said ehe,
Nay, think mo not- link uni,
And laughing, as she left the room,
.Let go the rope behind.
And as 1 smelt the noxious gas,'.
Ami ifttseied fre-m her eloak
1 ea/w the vapour rise, J cried,
BIivbended too in smoke!
Hut ah! my hide! for in three weeks,
{Oh bow it made me cuss),
Three 'chancres did appear upon
At y tel ly, wnggy -bus,
.A nd as iiic doctor in their depths
• Old with bis caustic poke,
Methmks, wind f, what bums so well
■ Should follow suit and smoke.
TUHEE BTC DENTS 'WENT SLUMMlXO.
• Air, 4< Three Fishers,”
Three students went slummingpqt. inti> the High,
Out into the High, m Big Tom went down,
Itetormincd''to slrtm till their ta|.n» ran'dry.
And the bulLdogs stood watchingthem right thro* the town.
For hum must-slam, ami women will try
Togain a ¿Trial!.pittance by walking the High,
While Deter stiff 0 »tiding.
Three bitebe* sat up In St. Mary's tower.
Ami. they trimmed tbsir quirns « B.g Tom ,
They longed for
For man will alum, and women wd! Bleep,
EogarcUoss oTclap, and poi-maii-s “<**
h And the aunt stretched open is yawning.
Three ron« stroked down their drooping stands,
As the morning shines on their sad mishap, _
And the women are weeping and wringing *«* bands,
Because they can never get rid o! tbs clap.
for men will poko both a whom and a keep,
And the sooner his over, the sooner »«deep.
Then good bye to thoeuntaml its tucking.
T0>1 11EV. PIMLICO POOLE.
Air, “The tvv Green.”
The Reverend Pimlico Poole was a saint
Who averted from »»»»the,r 1 00!“' .
By confessing the ladies until tkoy felt feint,
All alone in a little darkroom. .
ji«,* this little dark room was a sight to behold,
So beouriaiued a brothel did seem,
With a well padded sofa, and I also am told,
On a shelf stood a pot of cold cream.
Chorus___Bat they never confessed, and it never was known
What was don« in that little dark room a
■ »,fd mako one confess why .ho sat with
While her cneoks would blush up beotrno «d .
And toll how last night she had tumbled wd tossed,
And kicked all the clothes off her bod. ^
Which wo both swore to keep,
And after divers pleasant hugs,
We kissed ourselves to sleep.
But ah ! bow soon the bubble burst,
Forjnsfc in tiro© 1 woke
To see my breeches, boots, and purse
Were vanishing like smoke.
Hv sweetheart held them, and, said shi
Nay, think me not unkind,
And laughing, as she loft the room.
Let go the rope behind.
And as l smelt the noxious gas,
And fancied from her cloak
1 saw the vapour rise, I cried,
She's ended tcx> in smoke!
But ah! my luck! for in three weeks.
(Oh how it made me ouss),
Three chancres did appear upon
M y tolly *waggy*bus.
And a» the doctor in their depths
Did with his caustic poke*
Mot h inks, cried 1, what burns so wel l
Should follow suit and smoke.
THREE STUDENTS WENT BLUM Ml NO.
Air, “Three Fishers.”
Three students went slamming out into the High,
Out into the High, as Big Tom wont down*
Determined tci slum till their tap® run dry,
And the bull-dogs stood watching them right thro' the town.
For men must shim, and women will try
To gain n small pittance by walking the High,
While Fetor it s if is standing.
5
Three bitches set op in St. Mery's tower,
A ml they trimmed their quiras a* Big Ion.“ .
They loosed tor ft prick, but they thought of the llowors.
And the clap-rag they rolled it up, ragged and brown,
For men will Mom, and women will sleep,
Regardless of clap, and pox-marks deep,
And the cunt stretched open is yawmng.
Three roues stroked down their drooping stands,
As the morning shines on their sadmmhap
Ami the women are weeping and wringing them hand ,
Because they can never get rid of the clap.
For men will poke both a whore and a keep.
And the sooner 'tis over, the sooner to Meep-
Then good bye to the cunt and its fucking.
TUB REV. PIMLICO POOLE.
Air, “The Ivy UreeuU
The Reverend Pimlico Poole was a saint
Who averted from sinners their doom,
By confessing the ladies until they felt faint,
All alouo in a little dark room.
How this little dark room ww a sight to behold,
So becurtained a brothel did seem,
With a well padded sofa, and l also am to t,
On a shelf stood a pot of oold cream.
Chorus—Bnt they never confessed, and it never war. known
What was done in that little dark room all alone.
* lle'a make one confess why she sat with tog* ™d,
While her cheeks would blush up beetroot red,
And tell how last night she liftd tumbled and tossed,
And kicked alt the clothes off her bed.
Our mutual vows wc did exohange,
Wkioh we both swore to keep,
Anti alter divers pleasant hu^s,
We kieeotl ourgelr&t to sleep*
But ah ! how soon the nubble burst,
For just ¡n time I woke
To see my breeches, boot«, and purse
Wore vauisshm# like smoke.
My sweetheart held them, and, said she
'Nay, think me not unkind t
And laughing, as she left the room,
Let go the rope behind.
And as l smelt the noxious gas,
.And fotioiod from her eloak:
1 saw' .the vapour rise, I cried,
She's ended too in smoke!
But ah! my lack! for in three week*,
(Oh how it made me cuss),
Three chancres did appear upon
M y tolly-waggy-bii*.
And as the doctor in their depths
• Did with his caustic poke,
Mefehifiks, oneti i, what burns go well
'Should follow suit and smoke.
THREE STTDKNTS WEST SLUMMING
Air, “ Three Fwbfrx”
' Thrm studsntH wont sin mining out into the ifigh,
Out into the High, m. Big Tom went dawn,
l.ietermined to sh.no. till their taps rsi* ..dry,
And the hull-dog>, sttnxl watebiiig * hero right thro' Use towi?*
For mm must slum, and women will try
To gain a small pittance by walking the High,
While Peter stiff is fcUmding,
Three bitches sat up in St. Mary's tower.
And they trimmed their quima as Big lorn went down ,
They longed tor a prick, but they thought rf thc llow^
And the oUp-rag they rolled it up, ragged ami brown,
For men will slum, and women will sleep,
Regardless of dap. and pox- marks deep, _
And the cunt stretched open is yawning-
Three rends stroked down their drooping stands,
As t&e mornfog ebinea cm their sad mishap,
Ami the women «re weeping and wringing their hands,
Because they can never got rid of the clap.
For'men will poke both a where and a keep,
And the sooner 'tin over, the sooner to sleep.
Then good bye to thoeunt and its lucking.
TUK REV. PIMLICO POOLS.
Air, “Tbu Ivy Green.'1
The Reverend Pimlico Poole was a saint
Who averted from sinners their doom,
By confessing the ladies until they felt faint,
All alone in a little dark room.
Now this little dark room was a sight to bohold,
So tioourtainod a brothel did seem,
With ft well padded sofa, and I also am told,
On a shell' stood a pot of cold cream.
Chorus—Bat they never confessed, and it never whs known
What was done in that little dark room all alone.
• liv'd make one oonfeta why she ant with legs crossed,
While her cheeks would btnsb up beatroot rod;
And tell how last night she had tumbled wd tossed,
And kicked all the clothes off bor bed.
And say how that morn to the privy she went,
And when done, found no paper at all,
How she first used her fingers, iu spite of the scent,
And then wiped it oft' on the wall,
Chorus—But they, Ac*
And the maid would confess that her thoughts were so bad,
Though to quell them she never need fail,
By the help of the neck of a bottle which had
Held a quart once of Bass's pale ale;
And the wife would confess, as she fluttered her fan,
How she sometimes got poked on the sly,
And how when she was married some well-hung young man
Had a finger in her husband's pie.,
Chorus—But they, &c.
And the widow confessed what a life her spouse led,
Ilow for poking she drove him half wild,
And how when ho was dead, she was brought safe to bed
Of a thirteen-months posthumous child;
And all these confessions, so shocking to hear,
Never shocked Mr, Poole in the least,
But arranging his person, he sat in his chair,
While his Tommy kept rising like yeast, -----------
Chorus—But they, Ac.
Now the ladies they flocked in such numbers to pray
And receive ghostly comfort and ease,
That at length Mr. Poole's constitution gave way,
And his clock-weights hung down to his knees}
And when they had heard it all whispered about
That the saint had no more power to sin,
They declared their confessions they'd no more pour out,
Since he'd nought in return to put in.
tJhorus — So they, Ac.
7
BETTY'S TOWN EXPERIENCES.
Air,
No doubt you are anxious to know
How your Betty gets on in tho town,
How sheVdresaed when she's out on the show,
And the streets that, she walks up and down,
111 not tell how the Londoners shell,
Pll not speak of my bonnet or shawl,
But the Londoners' action 111 tell,
How the Londoners play cock and ball*
To tell of pox, chancres and claps
Would fail to amuse, I suppose,
So I'll pa ss by those dreadful mishaps
And give you a list of my beaus.
Ill not say if my cunt gets small rest,
If its lax, or as rough as a wall,
But 111 tell who performs on it best,
And who cannot play on it at all.
Sir Simon Shampoodle's the first,
An octogenarian fop,
He's a customer heavily pursed,
And spends a good deal at my shop*
—- My pussy the old hoy will suck,
And my hubbies as round as a ball,
But his prick's much too limp for a fnck,
So he cannot do it at all,
Charley Smash, who gives way at the knees,
Knocks about till he's weak as a reed,
He makes every effort to please,
But ho hasn't the strength to succeed*
He's just like a dog in a fair,
(The proverb to mind I recall),
In and out all the time ho is thei^e,
And never spends nothing at all.
Willy Spindle, with, prick like a pm,
Nature mount him, f «wear, !• ' p*.* *
Ami I oaly can tell when ho'« in
By lik bumping my belly with his.
11 ak a loobm'Ons youth uf idu-'en,
Witk. a running, weak nerves, ami a krav 1,
Ami bollocks tin Bca of i. beau,
Su cannot do i
Then next Major Bomb * tin Flu ,
Bo stalwart and Jn u of l\ , Ig
He is six. foot' three out of Us shoes,
A ad las prick* a In pitiporiioa to him,
But though rr iur* ‘ a • hi tm t-n k m
In rendering that potiiou so tall,
lie only will do It behind,
Bo i count him just nothing ai alh
Now IVe fits i shed my k t, uni my pen
BbaB doeixhu ubn I l To u my i; i it,
Winch is not li * . 1 * i'u 1 of t. *
Foi a- d'!n<, oi n; .* i v. • II ai mi
Uh 1 a dddo1 u tin thing Io ho squee* :d,
By Us side every id * imy foi ks small
Oh 1 a dddo, win n \>n -p*** tv :*v .«¿a d,
h a thousand t .mea better th&u t 1
THK HKi> PhUSit bfUBViPV
Air ^Uoop-doaioodi
io Baton Square, adnured by all,
LIvt*l ThoiuasJohn, a mo* nun tail,
The glory ol die ae.tsands halh
With his pair of rod plash, brooch*»-
Lika parchment by the legal host,
Miss Folly Gray's heart he engrossed,
Consumed by love, as fire burns toast,
For his pair of red plush breeches.
Now Thomas's love she did not. doubt.
And when she got her Sunday out
'Twas her delight to stroll about
With his pair of red plush breeches,
One night John Thomas wished, ho said, ‘
To step through marriage to her bed,
Foil squeezed his hand, and blushed as red
As his pair of red plush breeches*
'Twas in the park they sat that night,
Till all the gates were shut up quite,
And Thomas felt extremely tight
Were his pair of rod plush breeches.
So tight they were, and so confined,
And Folly looked so very kind,
Turn turned it over in his mind,
And undid his red plush breeches,
Down Folly sank with heating heart,
Tom geniiy stretched her legs apart,
And active motion did impart
To his pair of red plush breeches.
They reached their home that night again,
The truth Foil's linen could not feign,
Corroborated by a stain
On Thomas' red plush breeches.
Tu nine months grow the seed he'd sown,
And for the sum of half-a-crown
His hand ches every week go down
In his pair of red plush breeches.
THE DEFUTtJTE PARSON.
Air, ** Paddy's Wedding.”
In amazement lost, the “ Morning Post”
Proclaimed one morning, west and east,
A reverend gent had actually went
And been converted a Romish priest.
Some oily tongue from him had wrung
A slow consent, said public talk,
But the motive true, PIT tell to you,
Was as different as cheese from chalk.
Chorus—Then. let us hope, long live the Pope,
And may his sway rule every nation,
And never die the clerical cry
Of celibacy and fornication.
Now when a hoy, lie loved no toy,
Though with a girl he liked to play •
He thought it so pretty to play with her titty,
W Idle she played with his in a similar way.
At college and school he preserved the same rule,
And many a scar for Venus bore,
And with his yard he tried right hard
To plumb the depths of every whore.
Chorus—Then let us, &o.
ll
At last ordained, he was constrained
To turn and lead a Joseph's life,
But more than a year he could not bear,
And then he turned round and married a wife.
The service through, he'd much ado,
Or he'd have rushed out and^ groped his bride,
And with beating hearts and swelling parts
In a gig that evening homo they ride,
kurus—Then let us, Ac.
They had hardly gone a mile upon
The road, when down the apron went,
And in hot has to right up to her waist
The parson her petticoats roughly sent.
What next, befell I cannot tell,
But this I know, she lost one shoe,
The seat was split, be lost the whip,
And one of the springs broke bang in two.
Chorus—Then Jet us, Ac.
And then his house he showed his spouse,
And lined her again on a box in tin..1 garret,
He showed her the cellar, and with his umbrella
He shoved her backside through a dozen of claret.
He then took the bitch in, and showed her the kitchen,
And his plunges made every spoon, dish, and plate clink i
He lined her in drawing-room, bed-room, or snoriug-room,
Pantry, larder and parlour, and privy and sink.
Chorus—Then let us, Ac,
No-w for a length ho kept his strength,
And did his fluty night and morn,
And spots of fluff, or sou e each stuff,
Did his coat from his afternoon efforts adorn.
But at last ho gave in, to his wiiVrgreat chagrin,
And tin jigs had come to such a pass
The vixen swore, if he didn't do more,
She'd try as a stimulant birching his arse.
Chorus—So let us, &e.
lie thought, with a sigh, a divorce wouldn't lie,
Be was sick of bis wife from his top to his toe,
For the hole near her breech had a permanent itch
To be plugged, when both spirit and flesh cried a go.
At last he bethought him peace of mind might be bought him,
As with clergy in Borne single life was the rule
(Though they may luck and bugger),—so he went to hug her,
And in that church's bosom found rest for his took
Chorus—So let us, Ac.
IlYMN TO A COCK STAND.
Air, Advent Hymn—“ I»o he comes, Ac/*
See him rise i with pride ascending,
Oft in favoured sinners lain,
Thousand thousand crabs attending
Swell the triumph of his train;
Hallelujah l
liases prick to fall again.
Virgin eyes with fear behold him
Else in dreadful majesty;
Claps that set at nought and sold him,
Fox that burned him grievously
Never tears he
In the bliss of Veuerv.
Quivering limbs and «nobbing bosoms.
Hands that idly love to stray,
Kilby lips and humid kisses,
Melting glances seem to say
<* Come and fuck me, ^
Come and fuck me, come away.
Blest enjoyment, oft repeated,
Gaping quims cessation tear,
Fairy lingers, softly squeezing, ^
Qui.Vl.im through the maze of hair.
Hallelujah!
That's the stylo ot thing, my dear.
Yea, Amen, let maids adore the©
High mi thy venereal throne;
IVnfe!—wives lie down before thee,
Claim thy vigour as their own;
Oh, come quickly,
»pend and make thy treasures known.^
11YM.N TO CUNT.
Air, “ Hanover.'*
O praise ye the Cunt,
Prepare your glad voice
The praise of the great
Pudendum to hymn5
In the place where all came from
Let Israel rejoice,
And children of 7Am
Be glad in the Quinn
them iVs great name
Make known through the land,
On houses and walks
in chalk be it stuck,
Who always takes pleasure
To soothe a cock-stand,
And teach to believers
The joys of a fuck,
ith pricks Imaging out,
1 he people shall sing,
I ill the strawberry grows
ivreot in its pritl«,
then let them in turn
I 'lijoy a put in,
And a soft buttered him
The heathen divide.
Amen.
STB HOG EE O'PJtfOK,
Air, 4e Rosin the Beau,”
Fve sailed into 0's of all sizes,
And in them full often I stick,
Thou«h t,lere's that you sometimes catch cold i„
That take in Sir Roger O'Frick.
Chorus—That take in, Ac,
As the waters were parted asunder
When Moses ho held up his stick,
So the Red Cm divided arse-under
To take in Sir Roger OTrick.
Chorus—To take in, Ac.
15
And the ladies who love me m dearly
Delight to indulge in the trick,
And own that they sometimes feel queerly
For want of Sir Roger OTrick«
Chorus—For want of, Ac.
When death puts an end to my merits,
May 1 stand up as stiff as a stick,
And the ladies preserve me in spirits,
And gaze on Sir Roger (VPrick,
Chorus—And gaze on, Ac.
Who knows what some fond maiden will do,
Who for want of a lover's love sick,
Perhaps she'll use in the way of a dildo
The corpse of Sir Roger OTrick.
Chorus—The corpse of, &c.
And if a lino grave T ho laid in,
Be it none of turf, marble, or brick;
Twixt the thighs of that amorous maiden
Just shove in Sir Roger O'Prick.
Chorus—Just shove in, Ac.
A toast, now, Fit give you with pleasure—
A toast and a sentiment slick;
May tho shadow, boys, never grow lesser
Of any man's Roger OTrick,
Chorus—Of any man's, Ac.
After Planehd's “Dream of Daxial us.
I thought Peter's Keys that were given by Jes-
.-us opened the door of a privy, a privy;
And that Christ so benign gave up vinegar wine,
And was dosing himself with capivi, oapivi 5
While rod in his side, from the wound gaping wide,
Yellow liquor was freely a pouring, a pouring;
For some J ews with the clap, spooney man of that chap,
Had preferred it to cunt in their whoring, their whoring'
I thought God the Father said he would much rather
Have a boy than a woman to sleep with, to sleep with ;
While «tout Jeremiah swore the spear of Goliah
Was the best thing to bugger a sheep with, a sheep with»
I thought that Susannah had gamahuched Hannah,
Who said it was really a treat sir, a treat sir,
And called on Uriah, hut he would iff try a
Cunt with large pieces of meat sir, of meat sir.
I thought the Ghost Holy had given up wholly
Tho form of a pigeon to flit in, to Hit in,
But became of much use, in the form of a goose,
For wiping God's arse after shittin g -ter shitting.
I thought Abram's Sarny, and Martha and Mary
Sat comparing their fannies for hours, for hours,
Till King Sol be decided for Martha, who prided
Herself on tho flow of her flowers, her flowers.
When Mary was fretting, and wanted minetting,
On Si Peter came straightway desire, desire;
And after a hoot, she said; she'd no doubt,
The apostol ic tongues were of fire, of fire.
117
Then Martha pissed over old Aaron her lover,
Her thumb she inserted his bunt in, his bum in;
And exclaimed with a jest, I know a High Priest
§s partial to urine and thummin, and thummin.
PARODY ON «POWER OF LOVE”
There's a thing whose sway amorous men adore,
And for which they pay money to a whore,
|>egos rise to meet thee, short, long, sharp or blunt,
Yet with tears they greet theo-sueh is thy power, oh cunt
There's a thing whose root women all admire,
Whoso life-giving fruit fills them with desire ;
Any how they prize it, but when long and thick
None will dare despise it—such is thy power, oh prick i
There's a thing we all love, men and women too,
Dear it is to mo, so it is to you, ^
When together twined they our juices suck.
Rapture rare we find in a transporting fuck.
There's a thing that men can with mankind enjoy,
With a clean old man or an unfledged boy,
You may not believe it, yet 'Us true, tho' odd,
Arseholea can receive it—what they call a Sod.
THE LAST DROP OF SPEND.
Air, « Stirrup Cup.”
The last drop of spend has been squeezed from my balls,
Tho last poke brought off, betwixt waking and sleeping,
And 1 fain would be quit of a pleasure that palls,
And 1 fain would oblige the fair lady 1 m keeping*
0
Fm restless and hot, and my darling is lewd,
And rebukes when I'd lain from her dalliance bo parting,
With bet hot burning kisses Fm ever pursued,
And tho room reeks of spend and the smell of stale farting,
I cannot put in, X am weary and limp,
Nor from tickling lingers new life can X borrow,
My prick has shrunk up to the size of a shrimp,
And my soul is depressed and I long for to-morrow,
But cheer up my darling, and if fate has pleased
Before six hours' rest that your gallant come never,
Asleep he'll remember that she who had squeezed
His last drooping stand was his true maiden over,
PARODY ON EIZZIO'S LAST SONG TO MART
QUEEN OF SCOTS.
Quim and arseholo ! whose starting thighs
Arc all the sight I seek,
Whoso force in sweet extremes lies,
Can shit or piddle leak.
I bow me to thy loved cunt hole,
My hairy, my hairy quim and arseholo 1
Thy genitals I used to bore
Are clapped, and damp, and grey,
iih! finger midst those bps once more,
And hum thy farting lav,
Y bile I the spongy blue warts roll,
My hairy, my hairy quim and arseholo
A perfume rose from thv behind,
The white drops from it strain,
Then shall thy murmuring southern end
Say all my spend's in vain ?
No! flyblown be thy false arschole,
Your hairy, your hairy quim and arsehole!
TIIE STEONG-BACICED MINISTER.
Air,Sir Roger do CoverleyY
in a village whoso name is a mystery,
Once there lived a milliner,
Whose unfortunate history
Pit tell if you'll lend a willing ear.
Slio was no frolicsome jade,
Steady her life and right, oh!
All day she worked harchat her trade,
And soundly she slept at night, oh!
In that very identical
Town where dwelt this ftp blister,
At a dissenting conventicle
Hung out a strong-backed minister,
Who cast about glances so leary,
When ho was a thumping and thundering,
That all the old ladies felt queery
Whenever they came to sit under him.
He happened to find this milliner
One of his congregation,
And straightway longed to bo filling her
Bowels with consolation 5
So he paid her a visit next day,
And said *twas his duty to check her up»
-On the- destructive highway,
And t o aid her in keeping her pecker up.
Next day ho was at her again,
And many a day ensuing,
For bis zeal he couldn't restrain,
But must evet be up and doing.
Of her sins in a way ho quite shocked her in,
But his argument so did prevail
That soon she laid hold of his doetriue.
Then ho uncovered her nakedness—
Morally speaking, not carnally,
And in his endeavours to make it less,
Wounded her feelings infernally.
At first the milliner winced,
For the labour of love was rigorous*
But as she wasn't convinced,
The minister waxed more vigorous.
Long did ho wrestle and rout
To lessen the burden of sin to her,
But the more he bade Satan come out
The further he drove Satan into her.
So eager was he this sinner
To save, and so anxious about her, oh,
That each day he grew rapidly thinner,
While she got visibly stouter, oh!
Then he looked devilish blue
When he did h er very great crop see,
For the minister very well knew
That she hadn't got stout from the dropsy.
And when this unfortunate spinister
Fairly was got in the mother way,
Then the strong-backed minister
Found he'd a call some other way.
So the minister took himself off,
And the milliner felt forlorn enough,
For he left her to bear the scoff
Of the world, and the world gave her scorn enough
21
Long she lamented with tears
His loss of whom she was still fond,
Till at length her sorrows and fears
She drowned one day in a mill pond.
That very same night as the minister
Lav in his bed so snugly,
In wilked the ghost of the spinister,
Looking infernally ugly.
««You traitorous villain,” »he »aid,
Now come the end of your days is,
So she pulled him out of his bed,
And carried him off to blazes.
COMMENTARY ON THE PARABLES.
Air, 44 Levy's Museum.”
When religion first rose up to teach us
To do right and resist Satan's spells,
Its founder delighted to teach us
Some truth in his neat parables.
Trench, Alford, and others as clever
Have explained them, some right and some wrong,
And the fruit of their pious endeavours
I*u epitomise now in my song.
Chorus__With its parables, miracles, mysteries,
Who would delay to peruse
That most entertaining of histories,
The wonderful book of good news.
How, the seed that was scattered so gaily,
But of which very little took root,
Points a moral to each of us daily,
That says, always take aim when you shoot.
Ih the cuddle that preludes a snooze*
Don't waste any seed'on her belly,
-----iVnd.be careful .which opening you choose,--
Now, the guest who was asked to the wedding*
But who didn't put on his best suit,
Found himself from the room quickly sped ding,
And his impetus was his host's boot
When wo want to suck up to our betters
Wo should dress to our utmost or more*
And we shouldn't forget our French Betters
When we sleep with a Galilean whore.
In three measures of meal, an old woman
Inserted a trifle of leaven,
It leavened the whole, a sure omen
Of tho power of the kingdom of heaven,
When in bed with 0110's darling one lingers,
How often exhausted's one's pole,
Till, leavened by her soft coaxing fingers,
He rises and leavens her hole,
Two servants a generous master
Rewarded for doing soma job;
One turned lender to grow'richer the faster,
While t'other he hoarded his hob.
Bo one man gets toe large an interest,
From lending each night to his wife,
While one lays his barren old pin to rest
In the to Ids of a clap« rag for life.
Nov, the wind, rain, and sea proved uncivil
To the fool who had built on the sand ;
Out let wind, rain, and sea play the devil,
A well-laid foundation wilt stand.
The moral, for ladies' direction,
Says, charmers* this rule understand,
Piss ami fart down a temp'ry erection,
But cherish a permanent stand.
Now, the virgins who used up their cruises
Of oil, till it came, to an end,
Doan Trench as a metaphor uses
To typify clap-juice and spend.
SayS he* may each running and oozing
As quickly exhaust all its spite,
And when with a woman we're snoozing,
May our oil always last out the night.
THE GONORRHOEA.
Parody on £‘ The Raven,” by E. Poo.
It was evening, I lay dozing,
Spirit wandering, frame reposing,
But one thought would never leave mo
Till poetic form it bore$
Though to you it may appear, Sir,
For a poet rather queer, Sir,
'T was about the gonorrhoea, Sir,
That Fd caught a week before,
And I wrote these warning stanzas,
As I trickled down before,
Trickle, trickle evermore I
1 remembered how I wandered,
Xor on consequences pondered,
Where Ilaymarkefc lamps shone brightly
Over many a nighthouse door *
Came a hoarse though jovial maiden,
Who with brandy seemed o'er laden,
To address an old and staid
Said, «OM chap, weVe met before/*
Touched the garments that arrayed one
Where they buttoned up before,
lingered them, and something more !
I had answered in a passion,
Had with rage and indignation,
Harlot, by the heaven above us,
We have never met before!
But my trousers, fight distending,
ihreat a chance of button rending
Wild involuntary spending,
IT on as Onan spent of yore,
All about his brother's widow's
Snowy belly spent of yore,
Over that and on the door!
So I whispered, Hush, my deary,
tliere you know not who may hoar ye,
Cease your soft and honied accents,
Chafe my Cyprian wand no more,
Let us turn our steps and wend on
To the street that's called Oxondon,
Where are beds our limbs may blend on,
Arms and legs, and something more,
Beds that we may gaily spend on,
Tree as foam on salt sea-shore,
Spending gaily evermore!
Flights of stairs I never counted,
With rapidity are mounted,
For, Elijah-like, on pinions
Of erotic fire I soar.
Seek a bed, like Mars and Venus,
And with nudity between us
Flay the game of cunt and penis,
As the ancients played of yore $
Flay the game the homely fashion,
And as Cappadocia's champion*
Flayed tho game some years before,
Belly bumping evermore!
But I found this lively ma'mselle
Xu a week turned out a damned sell,
As X, mad with grief and pain,
By cunt and Jerusalem swore,
When X sent a hot and hissing
Stream, like hell Are burning fizzing,
As I stood in dolor pissing
As I never pissed before,
And my loins with pains arc aching,
And my prick is very sore,
linen staining evermore !
TUB TEMPTATION.
Air, «There was a little mani*
Now when the world began, there was a little man,
And very lonely felt he, in his heart, heart, heart,
Of the population he's the whole, and he hadn't got a soul
To pull his finger when he let a fart, fart, fart.
D
*St, George.
The Lord at length took pity, and said he, It's rather shitty
To be calling beasts all nasty sorts of names, names, names j
When with such a large machine, his calling should have been
A feeling and a fucking all the dames, dames, dames*
So he gave him Eve to lay with, but he said, You mustn't play
with r J
This pretty little fruit that you see here, here, here;
But all the rest you may indulge in night and day,
Until you both do get the diarrhoea, rhoea, rhcea*
But this most solemn warning they both forgot one morning,
As through Eden they wore strolling for a walk, walk, walk ;
For Satan now had stuck F, U, C,Tv, fuck,
In large letters upon the wall In chalk, chalk, chalk.
It's a strawberry, said Eve, or a carrot, I believe,
Or a cucumber, or something of that breed, breed, breed;
But now I come to scan it, I think it's a pomegranate,
Because it is so very full of seed, seed, seed*
Evo was so very curious, she fingered Adam furious,
Till ho dibbled in with might and main his root, root, root;
Said Eve, I do not know, but 1 think the thing will grow,
Because I most distinctly felt it shoot, shoot, shoot*
They hardly had the time to wipe away the slime,
When God down on 'em like a hammer boro, bore, bore;
And caught the guilty pair with flushed face and tumbled hair,
And an enormous fig.leaf poultice, clapped before, -ore, -ore*
Out of Eclen, roared out God, and with an awful rod
Kept cracking up old Adam's poor behind, .hind, -hind;
Till his prick began to harden, and against the gates of the
garden,
He stirred up Eve with another joyous grind, grind, grind.
27
CHOBDEE.
Air, u Excelsior.”
The shades of night were falling fast,
As up and down the High-street passed
A youth, who bore inside his gown
A prick-stand he could not keep down—
Chordee! Chordee!
Ilis brow was sad, beneath his eye
Was blackness he could not deny,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that well-known tongue,
Chordee! Chordee 1
Try not my arse, an old Don said,
The Proctor looks down overhead;
X can't, he cried, if 1 be hung,
And from his lips escaped a groan—
Chordee! Chordee t
Oh, stay, a strumpet said, and rest
Thy greasy head upon my breast,
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
As ho said No, but with that sigh,
' Chordee! Chordee!
Beware the Proctor's stealthy walk,
Beware the dirty smut you talk,
This was a Peeler's last good-night,
A voice replied, though out of sight,
Chordee! Chordee!
At dead of night, as down the Corn
The Proctors walk about till morn,
They heard that oft repeated cry
That echoed up and down the High,
Chordee! Chordee l
1 mean the “Bulldog/* there was found,
Still grasping in his hand so tight
His prick most ghastly to the sight,
Chordoe! Chordee
THE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC.
Como listen well, the while l tell
A tale that full of sense is,
'Tis all about the Zodiac,
In other words the Menses.
Chorus—TU fol do riddle
Hi fol do wack,
Ecgulate your penis by
The signs of the Zodiac.
'Tis month the first, when pipes do burst,
Wo often find precarious.
And danger lurks in waterworks
Beneath the sign Aquarius,
In February your tackle try,
But cautiously, for this is
A time when you may catch the glue
Beneath the sign of Pisces.
In March take heed to sow your seed—
It better to be wary is,
The wish is great to copulate
Beneath the sign of Aries.
Jn Api il fools neglect their tools,
When ladies most adore us,
And yield their hearts to men of parts,
Beneath the sign of Taurus.
May's scented bowers suggest the Bowers,
With many a painful remini*
.sconce of remorses brought on by courses,
Beneath the sign of Gemini.
The ointment blue in June must you
hay in, the safest plan, Sir,
For crabs intest the cuckoo s nest
Beneath the sign of Cancer,
'Tis to July the variety
Called Liou black that wo owe *,
Use letters French upon your wench
Beneath the sign of Leo,
In hot August a mot mistrust,
Nor foolishly with her go,
But try instead a maidenhead
Beneath the sign of Virgo.
Chaste in September keep your member
From warm and sensual vibra-
tions ¡—Weigh the odds agamstyour cods,
Beneath the sign of Libra.
October beer in health may. cheer,
If ill, pray cautious grow, Sir;
Chordces with teeth are ranked beneath
The sign of Scorpio, Sir.
November, lotions use in oceans
5Gainst evils vile and various %
Mind bow you sheathe your dart beneath
The sign of Sagittarius,
Let gad December warn us,
If we would last old goats long past
Tiie sign of Oapricomus.
Tims rule your lines by Zodiac signs,
Which fail not to remember
As best you can—they run from Jan-
•nary to December.
MISS BETTY BUNBUTTER,
Betty Bunbutter! oh, how I adore thee!
Smile, and I'm happy the rest of the day;
The warmth of my love is, I truly assure thee,
But equalled in warmth by thy fobde-roUay,
Still, a clap is unpleasant, and so is the burning,
And chordee is painful, I fearlessly say,
And I don't like my shirt to be endlessly turning
So yellow and starched by my iobde-roblay,
Betty Bunbntter! thy dimple a nest is
For thousands of Cupids to nestle and play j
How white and how firm thy lily white breast is,
While nipples erect token fobdo-roblay.
But what a calamity's paraphymosis,
Happy Jew, with your foreskin all clean cut away,
Whose uncovered penis, the year round discloses
The unadorned glands of your fol-de-roblay.
Betty Bunbutter! thy hair is like amber,
Thy teeth are like pearls, and thy breath is like May ,
Oh! were la mirror hung in thy bedchamber
To see thee undressed, and thy fobde-reblay.
31
But when your chancres are touched up with caustic,
It makes a man roar, let him do what he may;
And a second edition's a certain prognostic
lie'll soon have no frenum to his fobdo-roblay.
Betty Bunbutter! thy fingers are taper,
Rosy tipped, like Aurora's, the goddess of day,
Thy charms I can no more recount upon paper
Any more than with that I can fobde.roblay.
But cubebs, I own, are a terrible evil,
Though capivi is worse, I most fearlessly say,
Damn those irritamenta malorum to the Devil,
Thy fol-do-roMol, and my fol-de-rol-lay!
THE SENSUAL REVERIE*
Air,((Adelphi Dark Arches.”
Oh, when the veins burn with a tender desire,
And a kind-hearted damsel has set them on fire,
How sweet on her bosom all panting to lie,
And on those white pillows to languish and die!
A way with all garments, as free as the air
Let our loving limbs mingle, all glowing and bare,
O'er her bubbles and thighs let my hands gently glide*
To the soft little spot where my pleasures reside.
Now her eyes softly languish, her colour grows bright,
As she owns the sweet earnest of coming delight,
While wanton and white as the foam of the sea,
Her amorous fingers are roving o'er mo.
Oh, then let us join life's best pleasure to prove,
Let us each to our breasts strain the form that we love,
Till with labour grown weary, regaled with her charms,.
Sweet languor succeeds, and I die in her arms.
Now* pressed to her bosom, how sweet 'tig to lie!
To kiss those red lips, and to touch that warm thigh,
^ hhe the sweet loving grips from her dear hidden toy
Remind mo Fm still in the palace of joy!
THE CABBAGE TO HIS MISTRESS.
Air, Mozart's if Hymn to the Lark.”
W hen I grew in the garden, my mind nearly reeled,
I was so overcome with your beauty,
As you left the retreat with ivy concealed,
Fresh from your morning's duty 5
But the gardener came, with his tool in his hand,
And there stood the cook, so bewitching,
And he your adorer cut down, and
The cook took me off to the kitchen.
I was washed, I was boiled, and, Oh, joy, T was chewed,
My darling's tongue round me kept winding;
I never before felt so juicy and lewd
As during that heaven-born grinding.
As you swallowed me down, in your belly I found
Delights quite umnixed, without question,
As you mumbled and tumbled your true love around,
In a lengthy and tedious digestion.
I sighed till with wind my own darling was swollen,
Which she broke like my heart, and 1 pressed in
And rolled through the noble alcove of her colon,
And squeezed through th 0 smaller intestine*
Consumed with desire, so extatic and keen
Were my feelings—Oh! never suspect 'em,
'Till I found the remains of what I'd once been
In the charming retreat of her rectum.
33
■She took me the following morn for a stroll
To where we were fated to sever,
And potting her bottom upon the round hole,
I hid my love good bye for ever t
I fell through the air to my dark prison cell
In a state that I hope very few 're in.
But what was my joy when I found that I fel t
In a pool of my own darling's urine*
A VALENTINE.
Come to my arms, my mistress dear,
And say thou wilt requite my love,
For long 1'vo waited silent hero
An answer from thy lips above.
Then ope those lower lips of thine,
And let mo fuck my Valentine.
Come closer still, my darling pet,
Let me remove that curs'd chemise,
That only serves to make thee sweat
When I'm embraced betwixt thy knees;
Como woo this firm, stiff prick of mine,
My own, my yielding Valentine.
Join lips to lips, and let thy tongue
Thrust further, far into my mouth ;
Sweeter thy breath than fresh cow dung;,
Or balmy breezes from the sooth.
I pass my hand adown thy spine,
My charming fat-arsed Valentina.
Now let me place the rosy head
Within thy beauteous blushing-cunt,
That seems, while balmy drops are shed,
To weep at the provoked affront,
Come closer still our limbs entwine
My heaving, panting Valentino,
Now comes the momont of our bliss!
My penis swells 1 thy quim distends!
Did ever pleasure equal this,
As at one momont each ono spends ?
Ah! hotter squirts the juice divine,
My slippery, slimy Valentino,
Tis over now, three days or more,
The pleasure now is gone and past *
No longer I thy charms adore,
No longer doth my ardour last,
For I am poxed from head to chine,
You blasted chartered Valentine*
MINETTE.
A Sonnet to an Ideal Mistress,
Air, “Green Bashes.*'
Boyhood.
When Love, in its passionate urging«,
Fierce lust in my boyish veins tired,
I thought not of exquisite virgins,
Not as yet u \o then (Fautmi** desired*
Content with a fuck by the roadside,
And a cunt largo horse-collared and wet,
1 over clap chancre and node sighed,
My loving, my charming Minette.
35
Youth,
Next Prudence assisted the love?,
And Taste had crept in by degrees,
I loved no more, did I discover
Foul linen or dirt on the knees,
That innocence charming and youthful
I ne'er shad survey with regret,
When X deemed that a whore might bo truthful,
My dearest, my darling Minette.
Manhood.
My taste with my years had grown better,
Nor now to “ strange women ” I yield,
And I rove (when her mother would let her)
With a maiden through valley and field.
But alas this sport, too, has its failing,
And 1 ceased the extending my net,
When my lures were found all unavailing,
My passionate, pretty Minette.
Age.
Now nature too overstrained yielded,
And the bow over strung gave a snap,
For weak grew the prick that I wielded
Prom much over fucking and clap.
Then my tongue it's new functions performing,
'Twas then my love first that wo mot,
At the thought now I feel my blood warming,
My sweetest, my dearest Minette.
Besuet.
Then once more lot each place the other
In a transport of feverish bliss,
Suckle thou like a child at ifis mother,
Whilst my frenzied lips rapturously kiss;
And Ccelebe may frig till he's stupid,
And Benedick fuck till he sweat,
But for us be the true sport of Cupid,
My own, my “ distinguished ” Musette !
THE GALLANT GENTLEMAN,
Air, u Paddy's Wedding."
JTwas on me but one look she cast,
But oh i that maddening, melting gaze!
It told of all the pleasures past,
And hinted future blissful days.
1 saw her cast a doubting eye
O'er each stout thigh and brawny limb,
As though determined to descry
Whether or no I loved a quim.
But while she thought, and schemed, and reckoned.,
I caught her by her velvet bum,
Produced my prick, and in a second
Poked it up to kingdom coma.
So long, so stiff, that in that grind
It pierced its inword way so far,
I feared 't won Id issue out behind,
Like Love's intestinal cigar,
1 poked her till she could not lift
The fringed lash of either eye,
T poked her till the dripping shift
Seemed never destined to be dry.
37
And still as sombre death we lay
Till Cupid's bow again was strung,
Then, like a tigress on her prey,
Upon the embowelling shaft she sprung.
THE HAUGHTY NOBLEMAN.
Air " O, Parents dear,” Beggar's Opera.
Ail ut a Court, a noble crowd
Of nobles stood so haughty,
But not a man was. half so proud
As haughty Lord do Dordy.
E'en when a little child* *tis writ,
Ho gave Ids nurse his word,
He would not even stoop to shit,
Bays he «I am a Lord”
He would not stoop to shit for good
And all, his word he'd pass;
And more, he was so proud he would
Not oven wipe his arse.
The youth sarcastic, proud, and cool,
The point so far would press*
He'd never have a frig at school
Except in evening dress.
In church, his ways so lofty would
Make clerk and beadle falter;
This haughty noble said he should.
And did, sit on the altar.
He'd ninety courses every day
For dinner, and his throttle
No liquor swallowed but Tokay
At fifty pounds a bottle.
This noble never went to bed
To Ho with his ladye,
Without his coronet on his head,
And his garter on his knee*
He*d never let his lady's hand
Upon his privates linger,
Unless she'd fifty rings so grand
On every thumb and finger*
His bed it was so tall and stout,
And raised with so much art,
He'd tumble down in getting out,
And hurt his noblest part.
For oh ! the room was fair and grand,
With azure, gold, and rose,
With throe jugs to each wash-hand-stand,
And nine and twenty pos.
And when ho would, with head erect,
A stream pea in his po,
Ho was too haughty to direct
It anywhere to go,
THE FORLORN ONE*
A lady lived in Pimlico,
And though you'd think she'd not endure it,
Yet every day to church she'd go,
Because she dearly loved the Curate,
She worked him slippers for his toes,
She worked him braces for his trousers,
And, under unrequited woes,
The sighs sho lot were really reusers.
Upon his book his oyes were glued,
Be she responding, praying, singing j
*
39
His coldness and correctitude
Her to an early grave wore bringing.
Her hair had turned entirely grey,
Sho thought a final chance she'd best try,
So boldly wended on her way,
And found the Curate in the vestry.
And though ho frowned an angry frown,
And said he never could endure it,
The lady boldly sat her down,
And frigged herself before the Curate.
A cunning old pew opener saw
The lady's gay attempt to wheedle,
So stealing from the vestry door,
Sho frigged herself before the Beadle,
The Beadle blushed, and then began
The wicked woman to eject her,
And to the rectory off he ran,
And frigged himself before the Rector.
The Rector, when the Beadle had
in this way desecrated his shop,
Ought, strictly, to have run like mad
And frigged himself before his Bishop
But from a chance venereal go,
When once the Rector was erected,
He was unlucky down below,
And with disease he got infected.
He was afflicted with this blow
So badly in his manliest quarter,
That all fell off into the po
One day as he was making water*
40 1
LA PUCELAGE A LA VEEOLE. THE CHANCEE'D MAIDENHEAD* 1
Un soir a ïa barrière As I thro* Leicester-square 1
Une peau, une peau, 1 Did pass, did pass, 1
Tortillait son damera A girl was wriggling there 1
Bien beau, bien boau. Her arse, her arse. I
Moi, soudain jo m'approche At once I did address ■
Et puis, et puis, That maid, that maid, 1
Les deux mains dans îa poche And pulling at her dress, 1
Lui dis, lui dis— I said, I said, 1
u Oh, femelle divine ! “ Oh, damsel fair as light 1 1
“ Crois moi, crois moi Let rne, let me 1
“ Fais manœuvrer ma pîue Go home this very night I
l “ Dans toi, dans toi. With thee, with thee, I
I “ Lo d< )ux jus quo j'épanché Sweet liquor will we shed 1
I “ Est 1)011, ires bon, So white, so white, 1
I “ Livre a ma liqueur blanche, While lying on thy bed, 1
I Ton cou, ton con,” All night, all night” 1
| “Beau monsieur,” me dit elle, “Kind Sir” she then replied, 1
I Bien bas, bien bas, Quito low, quite low, 1
1 “ Jo suis encore pucclle.” “ I have not yet been tried.” 9
I “Ah bah ï ah bah!» “Ts'tso! Ts't so ?” I
I “ Puisqu'il faut q*ga commonoe, tt you first within mine arms, 1
K “ Eh bien, eh bien ! No blunt, no blunt, 1
I “ A vous la preferenco Shall taste my budding charms 1
L “ Pour rien, pour rien.” And cunt, and cunt.'* 1
I Jo la fous, sur parole This virgin she did prove 1
1 A ou, a nu ; | A trap, a trap; 1
1 Elle avait la verolo, The end of all her love 1
I Jo Feus, je l'eus. The clap, the clap. 1
I Mon vit, jusqu* alors vierge, Since I that cursed whore 1
I Coula, coula, Did meet, did meet, 1
I Ni plus ni moins qu'un cierge Capivi cannot cure 1
H -sST Jb O 1 Voilaî voilai My gleet, my gleet, 1 f\ ■p 1
A NEW BALLAD OF FAIIIB ROSAMONDE.
Eleanor Queen was plain to bo seen,
Rosamonde was a beauty,
And the King could shove at the call of love,
But not at the call of duty.
For the King was fond of this buxom lass,
As you're told m ancient ditties,
And would sooner kiss fair Rosamonde's arse
Than Eleanor's cunt and titties.
Rosamonde's cunt was pink and small,
And the King with his tongue would divide it.
But the Queen's was like a butcher's stall,
With the meat exposed outside it.
Eleanor lay like a sack of sand,
And, liked a legitimate fuck,
But Rosamondo played with his prick with her hand
And didn't object to a suck,
Low the Queen was jealous and overfund
Of the rights of married life,
And the King, though he fucked fair Rosamondo,
IV as bound to sleep with his wife.
In bed, the Queen would grumble and grant,
When the King was slow and lingerin'»*
For his prick was drained by Rosamonde's cunt,
And sore with Rosamonde's fingering.
U Rosa, Rosamonde. what shall I do ?'*
$aid he. 14 Well, that's a poser,
Tour prick won't do to satisfy two,
For it's scarcely enough for Rosa.
“ Oh, men, proud men, contemptible fool»,
Of love ean't bear the brunt,
For one cunt will satisfy twenty tools,
But not twenty tools one cunt,
Which you can stick as proxy for prick
Up the slit of Eleanor.”
Her work-box then she did uncloso,
And a dildo large did bring,
She spit on it first, then pulled up her clothes,
And worked it before the King.
Twas full eight inch, with a rosy head,
A slighted maid's best friend,
With a bag behind, wherewith to shed
Warm milk in lieu of spend.
At this the King did caper and sing,
'Twas the first in England seen,
Said he, <* 'Twill bo the very thing
To rootle tootle the Queen,
We two all day will cuddle and play,
And I'll boldly drain my balls,
Nor at night shall I curse my empty purse,
And my wife's importunate calls.”
The Queen that night neither sighed nor groaned,
But with new delights did quiver,
For the dildo for past neglects atoned,
And almost lifted her liver.
And tlio King kept Ins prick for Rosa to shag her
In cunt, in mouth, or in bum,
Till Eleanor's poisoned bowl and dagger
Bent her to kingdom come.
THE GOOD NOBLEMAN,
Air, «There was a Little Man A
Respected near and far,
There was a noble Mar-
*quis, and Wallsend was the title that he bore, bore, bore,
Who left his brother swells,
To follow little girls,
And tell 'em not to do it any more, more, more,
Bald he, i: A man's alfair
Isn't meant to go in there,”
And his Lordship put his finger on the spot, spot, spot;
But tho wicked girls appalled
The nobleman, and called
On God to paralyse each limb they'd got, got, got,
They're only meant topee with,” did he preach, preach, preach*
His ears he almost doubted,
When the little creatures shouted,
*c God blind us into bloody corpses each, each, each!”
<( Yon always should endeavour
To stop a young man ever,
On any grounds, from creeping up behind, -hind, -hind.”
And this noble thought he dreamed,
When the little creatures screamed,
uGod strike us deaf and lame and dumb and blind, blind,
blind!”
45
u You dissembling, bleeding, rotten,
Bloody, cankered, misbegotten
Lump of shit, rubbed over with a Utile spend, spend, spend!”
The little children cried,
For a cockstand they espied
Within the noble breeches of their friend, friend, friend.
They were tearing down his breeches,
And his bitter cries and screeches,
And his blushes would have melted hearts of snow, snow, snow j
And the little creatures found,
When they'd dragged them to the ground,
That, while lecturing, he'd shot his noble roe, roe, roe.
LINES BY MISS A---------E V------N.
Parody on « * My Mother.” Air, « Thy will be done.”
Whose tongue could best arouse love's fire ?
Whose tongue could best allay desire ?
Whose tongue appeared to never tire ?
My Gamahucher's !
Whose tongue could always find its way,
Whether in the dark or day,
To where my little clitoris lay ?
My Gamahucher s !
Who'd such a fascinating knack
Of laying A——*o on her back,
And mumble-ing her little crack ?
My Gamahucher!
Who loved to press the rosy spot
That lay so near my little hot*
„torn hole, with kisses fierce and hot?
My Gamahucherf
Who o'er my form will fondly bend,
Until my sighs proclaim tlia end,
And then, whose lips are wet with spend ?
My Gamahucher*«!
My tasto fur poking h so strong,
I so for gamahuchiug long,
They are so nice, they can't be wrong!
My Gamahucher!
Why, really God must bo a fool
d o think my pussey could keep cool,
While you have got a tongue and tool,
My Gamahucher!
And when the gamahuche is done,
There are pleasures still not yet begun,
And then you turn to manlier fun,
My Gamahucher!
Some little cuddling side by side,
And then your stiff-necked prick inside
My longing little cunt you guide,
My Gamahucher!
Our lips will press, limbs interlace.
Still closer grows our close embrace,
As these dear strokes increase in pace,
My Gamahucher!
And when the final stroke is given,
And tuy hole filled with your dear leaven,
1 he World s forgot, I rise to heaven,
My Gamahucher i
Aud when this lesson you have taught her,
I blush to own that this Eve's daughter
Removes the bloom with soap.and-water,
My Gamahucher!
47
EPITAPH OX A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS BTIICHEI>
TO DEATH.
They laid her flat on a gooseclown pillow,
And scourged her arse with twigs of willow,
Her bottom so white grew pink, then red,
Then bloody, then raw, and her spirit fled.
THE POISONED WOUND j on, EDWARD AND ELEANOR.
When Edward the First upon Palestine's plains
The Christians to succour, commenced his campaigns,
He thought that some pleasure should temper the strife,
So took lor companion his charming young wife.
Yos, Eleanor fair was a charming young wife,
The pride of his heart, the delight of his life,
And when day's wars are o'er, she pleasantly greets
Her warrior spouse Twist a pair of clean sheets.
Now, the Turks by King Edward were beaten, of course,
Ed treachery they try as a final resource,
And send an assassin disguised to the camp,
With a dirk steeped in poison—the rascally scamp!
Asa conjuror disguised, to the King hastens he,
And diverts his attention with thimble and pea,
Then strikes at and misses his Majesty's heart,
Hut grievously wounds a more prominent part.
At plain honest English now why should I stick?
The part that was wounded—it was the King's prick,
Whose rosy-red top did much rosier grow,
For the dagger had very near split it in two.
Tim royal physician was called in at once,
And this learned opinion did quickly pronounce—
« The wound it is poisoned—my instruments, quick,
I must instantly take off his Majesty's prick !”
Then out spoke the Queen* who was standing close by,
With a flush on her cheek and a tear in her eye*
u A poultice might do, but I don't think it will,
A black draught is useless, and so is a pill»”
Said the Queen* “ Fvo a thought—if it fails, more's the pity,
FIX draw off the poison like milk from a titty.”
Then she knelt on the ground, aud betwixt her red lips
The King's noble penis she fearlessly sips;
She sucks and she sucks, like one parched with drouth,
Till in spite of his pains the King spent in her mouth.
Bo the poison was drawn, and the King saved his prick
Through Eleanor's thoughtful magnanimous lick ;
And so by chance evils new joys introducing,
King Edward and Eleanor learnt gamahuehing,
«TUB GIRL OF THE PERIOD.”
Air, « The 'Orrible Tale.”
You young men all, give ear and quail
A t the most truthful horrible tale,
And you in outlines bold shall view
The Girl of the Period, in the « Saturday Review.”
Chorus—For oh, she was such a horrible girl,
A stoic's brain she'd set in a whirl*
Without a shudder, who can view
The Girt of the Period in the iS Saturday Review ?
Her cheeks are painted Babylon red,
With a chignon tall she adorns her head,
Of her bosom the padding's the total sum,
And she wears a bustlo instead of a bum.
To fetes or horticultural shows
The girl of the period always goes,
Where you'ro struck by her rudeness aud manners blunt*
When she slaps you on tlio trousers whero they button up
in front.
In the afternoon if you make a call,
Though mamma be there and her sisters all.
Without a blush she'll ask outright,
If you're come for a short time, or going to stay all inght.
And if you meet her in the street,
With words like these she's sure to greet,
** A glass of sherry you'll stand, dear, come,^
Or a pretty little sixpence for my cab home.”
When she comes out of church, from the family pe#*
As you stop at tlio door to say how d'ye do,
She boasts of the five-pound men she knows,
And how she never under two pounds goes*
When taken down to dinner by some brisk rattle.
Who of music, novels, aud plays will prattle,
With a blaze smile she asks him instead,
To see her and her little sister dance naked.
Though it be the first time that you happen to see her,
6ho makes a point of calling you dear,
And will call you Charley, though your proper name is Jack,
\nd ask you if you wouldn't like the skin pulled back.
G
This pink of fashion, if too soon you call,
YouTl find half dressed and not washed at all,
With a bottle of gin, (false pride she disregards),
Telling fortunes in the kitchen with a dirty pack of cards.
A pot of cold cream does her bedroom deck,
Tots of rouge for her cheeks, and powder for her neck,
A “ Fanny Hill” to beguile leisure hours,
And a sponge to put up when suffering from the flowers.
Now, young men tired of single life,
If after this you take a wife,
Accept a hint ere you put on the fet ters,
Ask the Saturday Reviewer for a dozen French letters.
THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM*
Air,
Of the Champions of Christendom little is known, Sirs,
Save that which is handed us down by report,
Though that little to much by tradition has grown, Sirs,
As usually happens with things of that sort.
I propose, then, to take each Saint, that we may classify
Which has fulfilled his blest mission the best,
That the various proceedings of each we may specify,
And the badge each adopted to servo as his crest.
For England, then, first, lot St, George claim attention*
Who would maidens deliver from giant-like thief,
What lie did with them after beats my comprehension,
Though ytis probable he was commander-in.chief.
He invented, while dwelling in far Cappadocia,
A system of rogoring clover but coarse,
And to prove that in fucking, too, he was feroeior,
His badge, the red rose, iu a field with a cross.
51
Fair Scotland a cross claims for Andrew, her saviour,
A white one he bore for his purity famed,
Although men in former days praised his behaviour,
In these days of divorce courts ho might have been blamed.
Did ho finish his work with crozier and missal,
And deliver them all from the power of foul sin ?
No, he left them the itch, and adopted the thistle
To scratch them, and gave to hell's brimstone their skin.
Come, Patrick, dear Saint of the green little island,
When yo banished the frogs and the toads by your force,
When yo turned all their bogs and their marshes to dry land,
'Twaa to live on potatos with hunger for sauce.
And I'm sura ye'd have never adopted the shamrock
Had ye only just lived in tho days of Bcpale,
By mistake for a landlord been slain by a damned rock
"liurled bang at your head by a son of O'Uato.
We Welshmen all swear by the fame of St. David,
And we hold him tho best of thesovon brave chaps,
For surelv to us very well ho behaved,
As is proved by oar cheese, and tho ale in our taps.
Lest wo should forget his parting oration
Ho adopted a badge to remind whoa wo speak :
Suva he, “ Stick to your liquor in all moderation,
But stop up tho barrel close, fearing a leak.'
Great St. James was a noblo hidalgo of Spam, Sirs,
And founded an order of knighthood out there,
Its practice was such as indicted great pam, Sirs, _
For they wore a chain mail lined inside with horse hair.
Bat to rouse thorn when faint from their fasts and their
And whim weak on their lady loves' fair breasts they lie,
In order to strengthen their amorous writlungs
Tho Saint gives them doses of strong Spanish lly.
The sharpest by half of that sanctified crow;
The lily ho bore to show ho did not paint, Sirs,
Though most of the ladies there nowadays do*
Do delivered his country from vile Fagan fetters,
And was for his great ingenuity famed.
JTis to Mm that wo owo tho invention of letters
Which after his country in general arc named,
St, Anthony, too, was as good, sure, as any one,
As Italy's champion through life ho did jog,
Do adopted a pig as his constant companion,
To show in church matters he went the whole hog.
When his lust grew too strong, in the snow ho would wallow
Which certaiuly seems a most curious device,
For a Saint, too, a queer cooling method to follow,
Like a fishmonger coaling his cods in tho ice.
TO A FAVOUBITE MISTItESS.
Parody on “Bock of Ages/*
Air from “ Hymns, Ancient and Modern/*
Cunt of Gracey, cleft by mo,
Bet mo sheath my prick in thee,
Let the water and the blood
From thy pierced womb that flowed
Be of crabs the perfect euro,
Safo from por and clap secure,
Not the frigging with my hands
Can supply thy cunt's demands
Could my spend for ever flow,
Could my prick no languor know,
All in thy dear cunt is sown,
Thine it is—yes, ihino alone
53
Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to thy love I cling,
Naked, come to that dear place,
Lecherous, fly to thco dear Grace,
Lewd, I'll in thy cunt hole die,
Birch me, Gracey, ere I try.
When all quivering comes my breath,
When my eyelids closo like death,
When you claim mo for thine own
Love, and call mo yours alone,
Cunt of Gracey, cleft by me,
Let me sheath my prick in thee.
TUB GODS AND TEE GODDESSES.
As tho Gods and the Goddesses gaily were seated
In a neat little parlour high up in tho sky,
With nectar ambrosial their bellies wore boated,
And Venus was squatted on Jupiter's thigh,
When Cupid, tho sly rogue, his mischievous pranks began,
Sighing, as every one present can tell,
Till with rapture the blood of each God and each Goddess rati,
For which Master Cupid deserved birching well.
Now Jove, being tho god of tho lightning and thunder,
Of Cupid's bright fire was tho sport and the blunt,
So tho clothes of fair Venus ho thrust his hand under,
And, to her astonishment, tickled her cunt.
Such doings tho Gods and tho Goddesses highly blamed,
And sworo that such conduct they never would stand, *
The dear little Goddess she blushed and looked quite ashamed,
And in her confusion she spent in his hand.
Then Mara he went Tip to the Goddess Rellona,
And told her that sho had got nothing to fear,
Then quickly the hero he mounted upon her,
And into her thrust the whole length of his spear.
There came in at this very critical crisis
Adonis, a neat little dandified buck,
Along with a dear little creature, called Tsis,
A nd gave her a most systematical fuck.
And Mercury, too, felt a strong inclination,
And lifted up five or six Goddesses frocks,
But each ono declined ins polite invitation,
And swore he'd got either the clap or the pox.
^Eaculapius to give an opinion was willing,
But swore he'd bo damned if he'd do it on tick,
And as Mercury said that ho hadn't a shilling,
The doctor refused to examine his prick,
Minerva was glowing with love and desire,
Though of modesty she had been oft heard to brag,
She acknowledged the power of Cupid's bright fire,
And went up to Bacchus and asked for a shag.
Though she offered to him virginity's treasure,
And into his breeches sho thrust her fair hand,
The dear little Goddess was grieved beyond measure
To find him so drunk that his prick wouldn't stand.
By this time at length all their scruples were ended,
And each lovely young Goddess by her fancy got led,
And as Sonmus und Morpheus politely attended,
Each amorous couple proceeded to bed.
When Jupiter cried, “ Now, take this as a warning,
And, mind you, I talk neither rubbish nor stuff,
Bo sure you're all down by ten in the morning,
For by that time you'll all have had fucking enough.”
55
THE FUCKING FAMILY.
There's them kids of mine misbehaving,
Their acting will soon drive mo raving,
'Tig really so bad
That X shall go mad,
For they spend all the money I'm saving.
I've got lots of young sons and a daughter,
In my pockets they make a fine slaughter;
The time once was mine
When I drank my own wine,
But now I must drink my own water.
'Cos cash I'd a very poor stock of,
My water they threatened to knock off;
Oue day, 'pon my life,
In sight of my wife,
A chap came, and he did cut my cock off.
Come listen to mo, my good masters,
And give me attention, kind pastors,
The while I recount
The horrid amount
Of my troubles, my woes, and disasters.
There's my wife Sal, sho never does lack words*,
She's let our house unto three blackguards,
And she swears by Cole
That she'll let the whole
Of the house, and then lay herself backwards,
She has let the house unto three lodgers,
And they are such gallows queer codgers;
On the door there was wrote
These words I now quote,
Mr. Balls Mrs. Mary Brown Rogers.
But now I am an under*dweller,
1 goes home, to my wife rather mellow *
At the door 1 don't rap,
But pulls down my flap,
And gets into my wife in the cellar.
There's my daughter Paulina Jane Anna,
Plays very well on the piano,
But she's such a rum 'un,
She's always a strumming
In such an inveterate manner,
A horizontal was once her delight, now
She can do all the fingering right now,
But the young bitch did say
To me t'other day
I should liko fer to have an upright now.
She's always my good advice scorning,
Though I know she's received cock warning,
For I found t'other day
A pill box that did say
Two at bed.time and one in the morning.
There's my eldest, a man himself styling,
Though the deeds that he's done arc so riling,
He's been with some mot,
And the glue he has got,
And guv it to us, the whole biling.
He gave it our servant, Poll Carter,
The bitch then she gave it me arter,
I gave it my wife,
And she, 'pen my life,
Gave it Jack Fitch, and Jack gave it my daughter.
There's my youngest, he won't ape his betters,
Though I read to him Chesterfield's letters,
A ml there's nought he'll delight in,
Except it's a writing
A K U N T on the shutters.
TiTE CORSICAN BROTHERS,
f you've ever been to the Princess's
To see a grand tragical play,
You must own that for scenery and dresses
ft stands number one in its way.
Borne like tl Sardanapalus,” while others,
And I with those critics must be.
Prefer the famed Corsican Brothers,”
Whose feelings so strangely agree.
In Corsica—so runs the drama,
And here's where my story begins,
Two infants "wore born of one mamma,
And joined like the Siamese Twins.
Their parents must sure have been cranky,
For what did these old buffers do,
They cut Louis from Fabian di Franchi,
And made them from one into two.
Cried Fabian one day to his brother,
** Now, this is a corker to me,
The only wav f see is, brother,
For both of us thus to agree,
Of whatever place I am an inmate,
My ghost shall tell you what I do,
And if ever a mess I get in, mate,
1 expect the same favour from you.”
w
Their sympathies so grew together,
From that clay they always went shares,
Not knowing the why and the wherefore,
Each one felt the other's affairs.
When Ma wiped the bum of one brother,
The other would cry “ all serene,”
And pull down his breeches instanter,
To make sure his own bottom was clean.
When they grew up to manhood they parted,
And in physic did try to excel,
To Paris young Louis was started,
While Fabian at home still did dwell.
Said Fabian one day to his mother,
«* From the state that my rhubarb is in,
I am sure that my beast of a brother
Is going now to have a put in.”
Then ho rushed from the house in a canter,
Tho night it was wonderful dark,
And he tipped an old woman instanter
For a fourpenny grind in the Park.
Turning homewards, lie saw in a vision,
Surrounded by statues and trees,
Ilia brother in a similar position,
At the back of the famed Tuillencs.
The next mail from France came a letter,
And Fabian its purport could tell,
For the envelope stunk of capivi,
And a bit of lint stuck to tho seal.
Cried Fabian,i£ I know you're a martyr,
1 can tell without reading a line,
I well know what you have been alter.
From a swelling I've got in my groin ”
59
Then he started to Paris, but got there
Too late to stop poor Louis' woe,
For his brother had just had his meeler
Cut off by one Chateau Renaud,
Bat judgo of poor Fabian's wonder,
For when he stooped down to pee,
His own tool dropped off from its moorings,
And stuck in his drawers at tho knee.
You may judge from the plot I have given,
How misery easily springs
From tho simplest strokes of its venom,
When aimed at the root of the things
If you've any doubts of my story,
When you next go to Paris you'll see
Two Corsican jocks in one bottle,
In a place called La Ruo do Ckordoe.
THE SPANISH MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER.
Air,<£ Tho Mountain Daisy.”
In yonder house there lives a lady,
What's her name I do not know,
But she always, always answers
To all questions, No.
Chorus—No, Sir, no, Sir, no,
Her father was a Spanish merchant,
Gone to sea some years ago,
And he bade her always answer
To all questions, No,
No, Sir, &c.
Dear lady* when you walk the gardes,
Culling flowers of every hue.
Would you, dearest, be offended,
iff walked along with you P
No, Sir, &c.
Dear lady, when I tie your garter,
Tie It tight above the knee,
If my hand should slip up further,
Would you take it ill of me?
No, Sir, &c.
When the birds are sweetly singing,
As in summer oft they do,
Would you, dearest, be offended
If X lay on top of you ?
No,*Sir, 4c.
When bright Phoebus sinks in ocean,
Tinging all around with red,
Would you, dearest, bo offended
If I asked to share your bed ?
No, Sir, 4e. '
The livelong night we- lay together,
Till the cock began to crow,
Now then, dearest, 1 must leave you,
Open your arms and let me go.
No, Sir, no, Sir, have another go.
A SONG OB' SALLY.
Air, “ Sally come up.”
A little song I'll sing to you,
The tune is. old, the words are new,
IPs all about what 1 used to do
With my peculiar Sally.
To make your privates swell,
She looked so nice, and fucked so well,
Did my own darling Sally.
Chorus—She'd put it up and pull it down,
And then she'd wriggle her arse around,
She'd spend and fart and shudder and bound ,
My fueksome little Sally,
I took her once to Hampton Court,
*Twas there I thought to have so mo spurt,
1 wanted to give her something short,
My charming little Sally.
1 did her bubbles press,
Then we quickly did undress,
And then, my boys, the rest you'll guess,
Of what 1 did to Sally.
Chorus.
She'd lie on her ktek and cry Oh, oh f
Catch hold of my balls and squeeze them so,
And quickly make me shoot my roe,
This charming little Sally.
Her cunt got red and rare,
A merkin she used to woar,
For I fucked her bald —yes, not a hair
Was on the emit of Sally.
Chorus,
1 kept on going tins maid to see,
Until I found 1 couldn't pee,
For l had got a damned ehordee,
From fucking little Sally.
I thought she'd been a maid,
But oh! 1 dearly paid
For sleeping with that posed-arsed jade,
That Christfucked, bleeding Sally!
I met her since in Drury Lane,
Christ! how she laughed to see my pain,
From anger I could not refrain*
At the sight of bawdy Sally.
I called her a cruel lass,
But she said, bold as brass,
« Oh, you be buggered and kiss my arse i”
This dreadful, awful Sally.
Chorus.
OLD CUNT OBEY*
Air, « Old Dog Tray.”
But unless my watch is fast,
Bedtime has come at last,
And to fucking I must wond my cheerful way,
Eve tried every change of hair,
But none on km can compare
With my faithful wife's old Cunt Grey.
Old Cunt Urey is ever faithful,
No other prick can find its way,
If l want a stunning grind,
I can never, never find
So flash a quim as old Cunt Grey.
She is good at fucks in cabs,
And a mortal foe to crabs,
And more like a nosegay than I care for to say,
She is open at all hours,
No poxes, gleets, nor claps, nor flowers,
Ever bugger up my old Cunt Grey.
03
Old Cunt Grey had a bugger
That up her arse once tried to force his way,
But she pissed all down his legs,
And shat o'er his nutmegs,
So he hooked it out of old Cunt Grey.
One mora X went to shite,
I'd been shagging it all night*
\ was limp, I was flabby, X had no coekstand that day*
Then the shit-houso door ope'd wide,
And in my wife did glide,
A flashing of her old Cunt Grey,
John Thomas quickly up did start,
f let a preliminary fart,
My bowels did relax,
dropped my bloody wax,
And shot my roe up old Cunt Grey.
A GRACE BEFORE MEAT.
Damn God, from whom all evils flow,
Damn Christ the bastard here below,
And damn the dove that rules the roast,
Damn Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
THE PROVOKING HUSBAND.
Air,
A lady in Seville's fair city,
Her husband did love very deep,
But though she was youthful and pretty*
That husband would do nought but sleep.
lh' always was nodding and dozing,
A ad ne'er brought a poke to an end,
But fell fast asleep ere its closing,
And never would wake up to spend.
If she shook him for conduct so shabby
When he woke, it was useless to pout,
For his prick was so limp and so flabby,
That he only woke up to slip out.
If fingering and frigging she tried, Sir,
And to rub up his prick with her hand,
Still worse was the lot of this bride, Sir,
For ho spent without getting a stand.
TUB NARROW AND THE STRONG.
By Professor Taken Short fellow.
I dropped a turd in a narrow lane,
Well pleased that rny efforts were not in rain,
1 button id my trousers and hastened away,
For fear that the Bobby should come that way ,
I farted aloud in the evening clear,
And the scent of it tainted the atmosphere;
To follow its perfume I did not care,
As it floated away in the silent air.
\\ hilo fucking a woman against a wall,
1 trod in the turd I had erst let fall,
And the fart that I let not long before,
I smelt again In the breath of my whore.
THE EYE.
In every darling creature
The most expressive feature
Is not the mouth to toll, or laugh, or sigh,
It's not the ears or nose,
Nor the chin, as some suppose,
'Tis the eye mv dear, the eye my dear, the eye.
While doing the heavy swelling,
You fancy yon are tilling,
And arc piping the effect off on the sly,
If you want, my dear, to see
The effect you've made on me,
You should ax, my dear, should ax, my dear, my eye
When you think you're going to draw me,
And bring a present for me,
A bracelet, ring, or what you please to buy,
Would yon find out if your tasto
Appears suitable and chaste,
You must ax, my dear, must ax, my dear, my eye.
And when evening's drawing near,
You are whispering in my ear,
How you would—and if I dont—then how you 11 die,
If you'd fathom on this maid
What impression you have made,.
You must as, my clear, must ax, my dear, my eyo.
TIIE MORNING POKE.
By the Ghost of Deau Swiit.
Though with lust urging wino-cups at night wo grow warm,
Yet morn, says the sage, is the time to perform,
•Tis then you should join in venereal bliss,
And greet your chaste spouse with a cuddle and lusa.
And jour teeth with a yellowish slime are overhung;
'Tis true that your lips may he dry, cracked and peeling,
And your yesterday's supper bo surging and reeling,
As you lie on your back, uncertain to know
IFt had best be sent upwards, or let out below,
By a strain for a vomit 'twould quicker escape, or
A spluttering stool that wants oceans of paper :
"Tis true that your nose with thick mucus is choked up,
And your nails are begrimed with the filth you have roked up,
And your eyes can scarce seo for the gum and the glue in,
And your mouth has a taste of the phlegm you've been spewing,
And your loins, and your pubes, arc sticky and wet,
These sticky with semen, those flowing with sweat:
'Tis true that the morning has painfully shed
The beams of the sun, through the blinds, on your head,
Which you dive 'neath the clothes, from the glaro in your eyes,
Whence the fumes of stale cunt juice, and prick juice arise,
Bank, fetid, and slowly ascending above
With last night's stale farts of yourself and your love.
Then feverish, and restless, your legs you extend,
And start, as you come on a pool of cold spend.
Thus reeking, and sweating, and retching, and soaking,
Mow charming a time one's dear love to bo poking!
TINES TO ELISE.
Men hire our persons for the night,
Keep us awake, and kiss and teazo,
But ah S how different the delight
I have In cuddling dear Eliso.
67
Men poke and spend, then sadly linger,
And all their lively motions cease,
But always lively is the finger
Of you, my beautiful Elise.
A man has hands, a tongue as well,
A man has something more than these;
But what can ever hope t'excel
The tongue and fingers of Elise ?
My girlish tricks, my woman's tattle,
Hough stolid man oft fail to please,
But you delight to hear my prattle,
My beautiful, my own Elise,
Marriage is a perpetual hire,
Wives swear to love till life shall cease,
Of you alone 1 ne'er shall tire
Till death, my beautiful Elise.
Let love-sick maidens find a bliss in
A sweetheart's kiss—the silly geese;
My dearest joy shall bo in kissing
The hidden rose-bud of Elise.
When Flora with her cheeky ways,
Will try to vex, annoy, and teazo,
I still can make her envy blaze,
By praising you, ma chore Elise,
Vet Flora, still we'll kiss and play,
I love yon more than all the lie's,
But when you're cross, I still shall say,
My fondest love is for Elise,
And if some man, which heaven prevent,
Should e'er my inclination please,
»'Twill he my highest compliment,
To say I love him next Eliso,
LINES TO T II E ll B S E .
The nobler sex, creation's lords
Hen call themselves—well let them rave
I love but what their purse affords,
Hy heart Therese alone shall haye.
A man may fondly press my lip,
A man may idolize my charms,
But aii! far sweeter joys I sip,
When clasped in dear Thcrese's arms.
Boor foolish men, like growing boys,
To such fond self-conceit they grow,
As if they could impart the joys
That woman can with woman know
The rose betwixt my swelling thighs,
To man may yield a venal bliss,
But its sineerest pleasure lies
In dear Therese s burning kiss.
And when I clasp her naked waist,
And all her blushing charms behold,
With limbs entwined, what joys wo taste,
Joys that cannot be bought for gold I
So soft her shin, so bright her eyes,
Such winning ways to her are given,
That when I'm nestling Twist her thighs,
I'd hardly care to go to heaven.
GO
NO MO B B l
No more shall mine arms entwine
Those beauteous charms of thine,
Or the ambrosial nectar sip
From that delicious coral lip—
No more.
No more shall those heavenly charms
Fill the vacuum of these arms;
No more embraces, wanton kisses,
Nor life, nor love, Venus blisses—
No more.
The glance of love, the heaving breast
To my bosom so fondly presfc,
The rapturous sigh, the amorous pant,
I «hail look for, long for, want
No more.
For l am in the cold earth laid,
In the tomb of blood I've made.
Mine eyes are glassy, cold and dim,
Adieu my love, and think ol him
No more.
VIVAT LING AM.
NON BBBUltGAM.
NURSERY RHYMES
There was a young woman of Norway,
Who drove a rare trade in the whore way,
Till a sodomite Viscount
Brought cunt to a discount,
And the bawdy house belles to a poor way.
There was an old man of Molucca,
Who wanted his daughter to fuck her,
But she got the best
Of this little incest,
And poxod the old man of Molucca.
There was a young lass of Blackheath,
Who frigged an old man with her teeth ;
She complained that he stunk,
Not so much from the spunk,
Bub his araehole was just underneath.
71
A young lady, who once had a Jew beau,
Found out soon that he'd got a bubo,
So when it was ripe,
Sho put in a pipe,
And sucked up the juice through a tube oh!
There was a youug lady of Hadley,
Who would with an omnibus cad lie,
He gave her the crabs,
And besides minor scabs,
The pox too site got very badly.
There was a young princess called Dagmar,
Who said <£ 1 should so like to shag, Ma,”
And says she, “If you speaks
To the King of the Greeks,
Ho will lend mo his own tolliewag, Ma.”
There was a young Marquis of Lansdowne,
Who tried hard to keep his great stands down
Bald he, f{ But that I thought
I should break it off short,
My penis I'd hold with both hands down.”
Who rogered his three maiden aunts $
Though them he defiled,
He ne'er got them with child,
Through using the letters of France.
There was a gay Countess of Duffer in,
One night while her husband was covering,
Just to chaff him a bit,
She said “ You old shit, s
I can buy a dildo for a sovereign,”
There was an old party of Wokingham,
And his whores said he always was poking *
But all ho could do
Was to tougue-fuok a few,
And sniff at his fingers while roking 'em.
There was a young lady of Ealing,
And her lover before her was kneeling;
Said she tc Dearest Jim,
Take your hand off my quim,
i much prefer fucking to feeling.”
75
There was ft young lady of Ealing,
Who had such a curious feeling,
She'd lie on her back
And tickle her crack,
And spend right bang up to the ceiling.
A Biblical party, called Ham,
Cried u Cuss it, I don't care a damn!
" Such a bloody great battering ram V9
There was a young lady of Disa
Who went on the river to piss;
The man in the punt
Shoved the polo up her cunt,
And gave her most exquisite bliss.
There was a young man of Newcastle
Who wrapped up a turd in a parcel,
And sent it a relation
With this intimation—
It has just come out hot from my aruehole,
J
There was a young widow of Nam
Who tho bedclothes did frequently stain*
With such great inflammation
Came each menstruation,
Her cunt so long idle had lain.
A nasty old bugger of Cheltenham
Once shit in his bags as he knelt in 'em,
So he sold 'em at Ware
To a gentleman there,
Why ‘did not much like what he smelt in 'em
There was a young lady of hhyll
In an omnibus was taken ill,
So she called the conductor,
Who got in and fucked her.
Which did her more good than a pill.
Thorn was a young man of Balbriggan,
Who was fearfully given to trigging,
Till these nocturnal frolics
Played hell with his hollos,
And killed the young man of Balbriggan:
#
75
There was a young lady of Tring,
Who sat hy the llr e to sing;
A piece of charcoal
Plow up her arseholc,
And burnt all the hair off her quim.
There was an old man of Ramnugger,
Who drove a rare trade as a bugger,
Till a fair young Circassian
Brought fucking in fashion,
And spoilt all tho trade in Ramnugger.
There was a young lass of Uttoxeter,
And the young men they all shook their cocks at her,
Their pricks she oft sucked,
Was oft buggered and fucked,
But at last came to grief—-for the pox ate her.
A young woman got married at Chester,
Her mother she kissed and she blessed her,
Bays she, “ You're in luck,
He's a stunning good fuck,
For I've had him myself down in Leicester.”
Who scrambled up into a tree*
When she got there*
Her arsehole was bare,
And so was her K U N T,
There was an old man of Tyburnia,
Who suffered from inguinal hernia,
When offered a truss
He said with a cuss,
« Juat you mind those things that concern
A modern monk nicknamed Augustin,
His penis a boy's bottom thrust in;
Then said Father Ignatius,
There was a young lady called Tucker,
And the parson he tried hard to fuck her;
She said, “You gay sinner,
Instead of your dinner,
At my cunt you shall have a good suck, ah
77
There was an old party of Fife,
Who suspected a clap in his wife,
Bo he bought an injection
To cure the infection,
Which gave him a stricture for life.
There was a yonng lady of Lincoln,
Wrho safd that her cunt was a pink un,
So she had a prick lent her
Which turned it magenta,
This artful young lady of Lincoln.
There's a man in the city of Dublin
Whose pego is always him troubling,
And its now come to this,
That he can't go to piss,
But the spunk with his piddle comes bubbling.
A boy whose skin-long X suppose is,
Was dreadfully ill with phymosis;
The doctor said, “Why
Circumcision weTl try,
A plan recommended by Moses.”
A rank whore, there ne'er was a ranker,
Possessed an Hunterian chancre,
But she made an elision,
By u transver se incision,
For which all her lovers may thank her.
There was a young lady, and what do you think 1
She said, “ I care nought lor a prick that dout stink,
And I think that a fuck
Ai'ut so good as a suck
When you've pulled back the skin and uncovered the
pink”
ThereSvas an old Warden of Wadham, he
Was very much given to sodomy,
But he slyly confessed,
u I like tongue lucking best,
Clod bless my soul isn't it odd of me ?”
A convict once, out in Australia,
Said unto his turnkey, “ ill tail yer,”
But he said, “ You be buggered
You filthy old sluggard,
You're forgetting as 1 am your gaoler ”
79
There was a young maid of Cardiff,
Whose father one Sunday asked if
To church she would walk,
To hear some good talk.
When the young maid replied <( Ai my spiff,”
There was an old man of Serin gapatam
Besmeared his wife's anus with raspberry jam,
Then licked off the sweet,
And pronounced it a treat,
And for public opinion he eared not a damn.
There was an old man of Kentucky,
Said to his old woman, u OB 11 fuck ye,”
She replied, “Kow yer wunfc
Come anigh my old cunt,
bor your prick is all stinking and mucky.”
There was a young lady of Delhi,
Who had a had pain in her belly ;
Her relations all smiled,
'Co's they found her with child,
By his honor the C-f B~~n K—y.
There was an old person of Delhi
Awoke with a pain in his belly,
And to cure it, Vis said,
He shit in his bed,
And the sheets were uncommonly smelly.
A youth who seduced a poor lighterman,
Said,
Yon a very fair grind,
I must say Vve had a much tighter man.”
There was a young lady of Pinner,
Who dreamt that her lover was in her,
This excited her heart,
So she let a great fart,
And slut out her yesterday's dinner.
There was an old woman of Ghent,
Who swore that her cunt had no scent,
She got fuckod so often,
At last she got rotten,
And didn't she stink when she spent.
HI
Tht*r<* was a young lady of Gloucester,
Whose friends they thought they had lost her,
Till they found on the grass
The marks of her arse,
And the knees of the man who had crossed her.
There was a young man of Belgravia,
ho didn't believe in the Saviour,
So he walked down the Strand
With his prick in his hand,
And was locked up for beastly behaviour.
There whs a gay Rector of Poole,
Most deservedly proud of his tool -
With sonic trifling aid
Prom the curate, Vis said,
He rogered the National School.
There was a young man of Nepaul,
Who confessed that he'd only one ball,
But some meddlesome bitches
Once pulled down his breeches,
When lo ! he'd no bollocks at all.
There wore three young ladies of Iluxham,
And whenever we meets 'em, we fucks 'em,
And when that game grows stale
We sits on a rail,
And pnlts out our pricks and they sucks 'em.
There was a young man of St. Just,
W ho at© of new bread till lie bust,
It was not the crumb,
For that passed through his bum,
But what buggered him up was the crust.
There was a young man of Oswego,
Whose friends said, u Be off now, to sea go,”
He there learned the trick
Of skinning his prick,
And up arses thrusting his pego.
Thus died an old nmu of Moldavia,
Well known for his bawdy behaviour,
When the priest thought him shriven,
And fitted for heaven,
He cried,'** Go and hugger the Saviour.”
PARODY ONT «THE HOUSE THAT JACK EtHLiV
This is the cunt that Jack fucked.
These are the warts that grew, in the cunt that Jack fucked.
These are the hairs that fringed the warts, that grew in the
cunt that Jack fucked*
These are the crabs that dwelt in the hairs, that fringed the
warts, that grew in the cunt that Jack fucked.
This is the spend that deluged the crabs, that dwelt in the hairs
that fringed the warts, that grew in the cunt that Jack
fucked.
These are the balls so battered and worn, that sent forth the
spend, ttafc deluged the crabs, that dwelt in the hair, that
fringed the warts, that grew in the cunt that Jack fucked.
This is the prick with the crumpled horn, that hung over the
balls so battered and worn, that sent forth the spend, that
deluged the crabs, that dwelt in the hair, that fringed the
warts, that grew in the cunt that Jack fucked.
This Is the clap that made Jack mourn, that gave to his prick
the crumpled horn, that hung over his balls so battered
and worn, that sent forth the spend, that deluged the
crabs, that dwel t in the hair, that fringed the warts, that
grew in the cunt that Jack fucked*
This is the chancre as hard as a corn, that came after the clap
* that made Jack mourn, that gave to his prick the crumpled
horn, that hung over the balls so battered and worn, that
sent forth the spend, that deluged the crabs, that dwelt in
the hair, that fringed the warts, that grew in the cunt that
Jack fucked.
This is the doctor who called every morn, to caustic the chan-
cre as hard as a corn, that came after the clap that made
Jack mourn, that gave to his prick the crumpled horn,
that hung over the balls so battered and worn, that sent
forth the spend, that deluged the crabs, that dwelt in the
hair, that fringed the warts, that grew in the cunt that
Jack fucked.
$5
DEFINITIONS OF CHARACTER.
The vain man—Quo who loves the smell of his own farts.
The amiable man—One who loves the smelt of other people*»
farts.
The proud man—One who thinks lie can let loud farts.
The sly man—Ono who lets silent farts and walks away*
The modest man—One who lets silent farts and blushes.
The impudent man—One who lets loud farts and laughs.
The scientific man—One who bottles his farts.
The unfortunate man—One who lets moist farts.
The bewildered man—One who does not know his own farts
from any one else's farts.
The nervous man—Oue who stops in the middle of a fart,
The honest man—One who farts fair.
The foolish man—Ono who tries to keep a fart in.
The prompt man—Ono who always has a fart rpady.
The envious man—One who says he does not like farts,
The miserable man—One who can't fart.
The dishonest man—One who claims other people's farts.
The grateful man—One who thanks God for a fart*