ONE WAY OF LOVE 
 
 
I 
 
All June I rubbed my prick with grease. 
Now, hair by hair, I comb its fleece, 
And shew it where Pauline may pass. 
She will not suck me off. 
Alas !  What, no luck ?  Lord love a duck ! 
The chance was she might need a fuck ! 
 
 
II 
 
How many months I strove to wipe 
My brown and corrugated pipe ! 
To-day I fart for all I know. 
She will not hear my music.  So ? 
It is split ?  Devil a bit ! 
Suppose Pauline had bade me shit ! 
 
 
III 
 
My whole life long I learned to frig. 
This hour I play the supreme pig 
And suck her pussy.  Pox or clap ? 
She will riot give me syph ?  Mayhap ! 
Pox who may — I still can say 
“ Those who get chancre, lucky they ! ” 
 
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