Part 2 of 2:
   
                    Then when she had wiped off her bung
                            
                    Of the clinkers that thereunto clung,
                            She would singe off the hair
                            That had sprouted down there,
                            
                    And would lick her twat clean with her tongue.
                            
                                              

A seamstress at Epping-on-Tyne 
               Used to peddle her tail down the line. 
                    She first got a crown, 
                    But her prices went down--- 
               Now she'll fit you for ten pence or nine. 

There once was a man from St. Pauls
Who used to perform in the halls.
His favorite trick
Was to stand on his prick
And roll off the stage on his balls. 

               A maiden sat under a tree 
               And played with the lad's fiddle-dee, 
                    His little wood post--- 
                    Soon her jewel is lost 
               From the casket where it used to be. 

"Now really, young man, you're a bore,"
Said a Lady Priscilla van Blore.
"I'm covered with sweat
And you haven't come yet
And my God - it is quarter past four!"