Anonymous - Pearl

Ten years ago.

Though now a second time she's wed,

Hers is a most lascivious bed;

Though thirty years she now has sped,

She fucks still better than she did,

Ten years ago.

LINES WRITTEN UNDER HER PORTRAIT.

Such Helen was! religious, young and fair;

A faithful spouse, and blest with babies dear;

But in the church, while week by week she prayed,

An amorous noble long her charms surveyed;

Sunday by Sunday, seated near her pew,

He kept the goddess of his heart in view;

And when the Tenth Command was duly read,

"I covet thee," his burning glances said—

Her humble rank forbade acquaintance free,

Yet high enough it was to guard her modesty;

Her husband was a gamester fierce and rude,

He fled the town, and other loves pursu'd;

She on her jointure fair remained at home,

Close guarded by his mother and her own;

Two months at church, she stood the siege of sighs,

Silence, that spoke, and eloquence of eyes;

Could virtue longer last? at length she fell;

No more, no more, can happy lovers tell.

And mark the sequel! rashly she had sworn

She ne'er would to her faithless lord return;

Her prudent lover urged a course more wise,

His vigour had more force than his advice;

She would not listen, till her swelling zone,

Proved his kind counsel wiser than her own.

Just at that juncture her good man returned,

In time to adopt the babe, that proves him horn'd;

The wedding ring upon her hand you see

Is not her wedding ring, 'twas given by me;

The one her husband gave her, here, here, behold!

Around my finger wreaths its hallow'd gold;

Her diamond brooch and clasps all brightly shine,

His gifts indeed! the locks they hold are mine;

Far, far away, I now her absence mourn,

Grant me, O Venus! grant a quick return;

Keep Helen virtuous, till again we meet,

And revel in the bliss so naughty and so sweet.

UP THE CHIMNEY.

When Captain Jones of Halifax,

Was put in winter quarters,

His landlady, a widow, had

The prettiest of daughters.

The Captain sued her lovingly,

The girl was gay and ready

To join her lot with his and be

The noble Captain's lady.

Their wedding was deferred; — but soon,

Impatient for the pleasure,

He found his way into her room,

And swiv'd her at his leisure.

The chambermaid, who set to rights

The different pots and pans,

Warn'd mistress there was ne'er a drop

In that of this young man's.

The mother asked him tenderly,

"As you're to wed my daughter,

Pray tell me why — my dear young man,

Why — why — you make no water?"

"Ah, Madam!" cried he, "cannot you

The real reason guess?

The fact is that I go to bed,

So full of tenderness.

I get eager for the bliss,

I feel so stiff and hot,

That really I'm obliged to piss

Right up the Chimney Pot."

In the wars in India, in the year 1800, Major Torrens's party was pursuing some of the enemy. One day, while they were dining and very merry, a sergeant came and reported to the Major that two prisoners were brought in, one old and one young. The Sergeant requested orders regarding them. The Major merrily answered: "Oh, take them away and frig them." The Sergeant retired. In an hour he returned, and respectfully made this report: "Please your honour, we have frigged the young one, but we can't make the old man's cock stand."

This story was related to me, in 1818, by Torrens, who was then an old General at Madras.

NURSERY RHYMES.

There was a young lady of Harrow,

Who complained that her Cunt was too narrow,

For times without number

She would use a cucumber,

But could not accomplish a marrow.

There was a young lady of Glasgow,

And fondly her lover did ask, "Oh,

Pray allow me a fuck,"

But she said, "No, my duck,

But you may, if you please, up my arse go."

There was a young man had the art

Of making a capital tart,

With a handful of shit,

Some snot and a spit,

And he'd flavor the whole with a fart.

There was an old man of Connaught.

Whose prick was remarkably short,

When he got into bed

The old woman said,

"This isn't a prick, it's a wart."

There was a gay Countess of Bray,

And you may think it odd when I say,

That in spite of high station,

Rank and education,

She always spelt Cunt with a K.

There was an old parson of Lundy,

Fell asleep in his vestry on Sunday;

He awoke with a scream,

"What, another wet dream,

This comes of not frigging since Monday."

There was a strong man of Drumrig,

Who one day did seven times frig;

He buggered three Sailors,

Four Jews and two Tailors,

And ended by fucking a pig.

There was an Old Man of the Mountain,

Who frigged himself into a fountain,

Fifteen times had he spent,

Still he wasn't content,

He simply got tired of the counting.

There was a young man of Nantucket,

Who went down a well in a bucket;

The last words he spoke,

Before the rope broke,

Were, "Arsehole, you bugger, and suck it."

A native of Havre de Grace

Once tired of Cunt, said "I'll try arse."

He unfolded his plan

To another young man,

Who said, "Most decidedly, my arse!"

At the Parish Church, South Hackney, by the Rev. C. A. White, John Henry Bottomfeldt, of Hamburgh, to Sarah Jane Greens, of South Hackney. (Vide "Daily Telegraph," Januarys, 1875).

How lovely everything now seems

When joined in one by Hymen's belt,

For now John Henry has his Greens,

And Sarah Jane her Bottom-feldt.

SUB-UMBRA, OR SPORT AMONG THE SHE-NOODLES.

(Continued.)

After luncheon Frank smoked his cigarette in my room; the events of the morning had left both of us in a most unsettled and excited state.

"I say, old fellow," he exclaimed, "by Jove! it's quite impossible for me to wait till to-morrow for the chance of enjoying that delicious Rosa; besides, when there are so many of us together there is just the chance of being disappointed; no, no, it must be this very night if I die for it; her room is only the other side of my sisters."

I tried to persuade him from doing anything rashly, as we could not yet be certain that even excited and ready as she had shown herself, that she was prepared to surrender her virginity so quickly. However, arguments and reasonings were in vain. "See," he exclaimed, "the very thoughts of her make my prick ready to burst," opening his trousers and letting out his beautiful red-headed cock, as it stood in all its manly glory, stiff and hard as marble, with the hot blood looking ready to burst from his distended veins; the sight was too exciting for me to restrain myself, the cigarette dropped from my lips, and going upon my knees in front of him, I kissed, sucked, frigged, and played with his delicious prick till he spent in my mouth with an exclamation of rapture, as I eagerly swallowed every drop of his copious emission. When we had a little recovered our serenity, we discussed the best plans for the night, as I was determined to have my share of the amusement, which Frank most willingly agreed to, provided he was to go first to Rosa's room, and prevail upon her to consent to his ardent suit; then when all seemed to be en rиgle, I was to surprise them in the midst of their fun, and join in the erotic frolic.

After dinner we adjourned to the drawing-room, where a most pleasant evening was enlivened by music and singing, leaving Frank turning over the leaves for Rosa and Polly, as they sang "What Are the Wild Waves Saying." Annie and Sophie whispered to me that they should like a short stroll in the garden by moonlight, so opening the window, a few steps brought us on to the soft gravel path, where we could walk with an almost noiseless tread. Papa and Mama were in the library playing cribbage, and we felt sure that Frank and Rosa would not run after us, so passing rapidly down a shady walk, with one arm round each of the dear girl's waists, and alternately kissing one and the other of them, we soon arrived at a very convenient spot, and the instinct of love allowed me to guide the willing girls into a rather dark arbour without the least demur on their part.