Strain, ——squeeze, ——yet loth for to depart,
Again they strain—for what? a Fart.
Hence Cantabs take this moral Trite,
’Gainst Nature, if ye think or sh--te;
Use all the Labour, all the Art,
’Twill ne’er exceed a Pun, or Fart.
Red-Lion, Egham.
Coquets will always merry prove;
But Prudes are those give down their love;
And love and move, and move to love.