When on our downy bed we fondly lay,
Heating each other by our am'rous play;
Till Nature, yielding to the luscious game,
Would fierce desire and quenchless lust inflame!
Oh! then we join'd in love's most warm embrace,
And pressed soft kisses on our every grace!
Around my form his pliant limbs entwined,
Love's seat of bliss to him I then resigned!
We pant, we throb, we both convulsive start!
Heavens! then what passions thro' our fibres dart!
We heave, we wriggle, bite, laugh, tremble, sigh!
We taste Elysian bliss — we fondle — die.
THE RIVAL TOASTS.
An English and an American vessel of war being in port together, Captain Balls, of the former, invited the officers of the Yankee frigate to dine in board of his ship, but stipulated, in order to avoid any unpleasantness, that no offensive or personal toasts should be proposed, to which the Americans cheerfully assented. However, after dinner, during dessert, when the conversation happened to turn warmly upon the respective merits of the two nations, a Yankee officer suddenly stood up, and said he wished to propose a toast, which he should take as a personal offense if anyone refused to drink it.
Captain B. mildly expressed a hope that it was nothing offensive, but consented to drink to whatever it might be, with the proviso that, if he thought fit to do so, he should propose another afterwards.
Then shouted the American, exultingly: "Here's to the glorious American flag: Stars to enlighten all nations, and Stripes to flog them."
Captain B. drained a bumper to the American's toast; then turning to the old ship's steward, standing behind his chair, said quietly: "You can beat that, can't you, Jack?"
"Ay! Aye! Sir! If you fill me a stiff'un."
The Captain mixed him a good swig of hot and strong. Then handing the steward the glass, he thundered out: "Silence for Jack's toast, and any gentleman here present, refusing to drink to it, I shall not take it as a personal offense, but at once order the gunner's mate to give him three dozen. Now then, Jack."
Jack, with a grim smile, and bowing to the Yankee officer, said: "Then here's to the ramping, roaring British Lion, who shits on the stars, and wipes his arse on the stripes."
NURSERY RHYMES.
There was a young man of Bombay,
Who fashioned a cunt out of clay;
But the heat of his prick
Turned it into a brick,
And chafed all his foreskin away.
There was a young man of Peru,
Who had nothing whatever to do;
So he took out his carrot
And buggered his parrot,
And sent the result to the Zoo.
There was a young girl of Ostend,
Who her maidenhead tried to defend,
But a Chasseur d'Afrique
Inserted his prick,
And taught that ex-maid how to spend.
There was a young man of Calcutta,
Who tried to write "Cunt" on a shutter.
When he got to C-U,
A pious Hindoo
Knocked him arse over head in the gutter.
There was a young man of Ostend,
Whose wife caught him fucking her friend;
"It's no use, my duck,
Interrupting our fuck,
For I'm damned if I draw till I spend."
There was a young man of Wood Green,
Who tried to fart "God Save the Queen."
When he reached the soprano,
He shot his guano,