ON Miss V——e’s F——T, IN THE PHILIPPCK STILE.
Reading edition
LOVELY Babe of Maid of Honour, Every Grace shall smile upon her, Sweetest Warbler of the Tail, Soft as Breeze of Southern Gale; Or the fanning Zephyrs Blast, Over Beds of Spices past; Gentle Puff of fragrant Air, Squeez’d from Breech of Virgin Fair; ’Tis by Thee the Fair discover, Proof of Vigour in a Lover; Silent Fizzle, or speaking Fart, Easily both Ease impart; Sweet Fore-boder, joyful Sound, To the Belly that’s hard bound; Cure of Cholick, Cure of Gripes, Tuneful Drone of lower Pipes. Thus the Winds in Cavern pent, Widen Holes, and force a Vent; Stealing Whisper, ’scape of Bum, Soft as Flute, or loud as Drum; Downwards breathing, backwards sigh, Happy Smock that lies so nigh; Happy she that can this Way, Shut her Mouth, but loudly Bray.
