In such a slimy still ! 
To frig you till one chilled you ; 
To damp you till you mildew : 
To fuck you till one filled you, 
Sweet cunt, if spunk could fill : —  
 
To hunt a crab and lose him 
Between your twat and bosom, 
Your bubbies’ coppery blossom, 
Between your hips and hocks : 
To say of clap “ What is it ? ” 
To laugh at syphilis, it 
Is nothing ;  we can kiss it 
And it’s no longer pox : —  
 
To feel the buboes thicken 
By ulcer-blooms that quicken, 
Red sores that stink and sicken, 
Lures of a leprous bride : —  
Till, like a luscious Turk, you re- 
Bound, to the doctor spur :  cure he 
Will, quickly blending Mercury 
With Kalic Iodide. 
 
(A verse, too indelicate for the taste of our lady 
readers, has here been omitted.) 
 
As when late larks give warning 
Of dying fucks or dawning, 
Girls murmur in the morning : 
“ Once more, dear boy, once more ! ” 
And Mr. Pego failing 
To answer to her wailing, 
Bursts out in wrath and railing : 
“ I shan’t, you bloody whore ! ” 
 
But soon her mouth up swallows 
His prick ;  her poxy hollows 
Grow glorious as Apollo’s : 
[100]