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A milkmaid of Warnesby Fair
Was an expert at riding bulls bare.
Oh how the bulls gallop
To give that dear trollop
A bounce on the sweet derry-air.
Send this poem to a friend 1 There was an old maid from Bermuda
Who shot a marauding intruder.
It was not her ire
At his lack of attire,
But he reached for her jewels as he screwed her.
Send this poem to a friend 2 As Apollo was chasing the fair
Daphne she vanished in air.
He could find but a shrub
With thick bark on the hub
And not even a knot-hole to spare.
Send this poem to a friend 3 A whore grown too old to get laid
Turned parfumeuse, finding it paid
To concoct Fleur de Floozie
From the juice of her coosie
(Substantial discount to the trade).
Send this poem to a friend 4 Q. Flaccus in his third liber:
"The Romans have no wood-pulp fiber.
A crapulent quorum
Will squat in the Forum
And heave dirty stones in the Tiber."
Send this poem to a friend 5