What befel poor Crop’s P⸺ on the late circumcision.
The Rabbi appear’d, and the Christian’s foreskin
Was about to be banish’d, to cleanse Crop of sin;
But Gentiles and Jews, mark the cream of the joke,
By Prometheus inspir’d, his P⸺ suddenly spoke.
Tho’ with fear first poor P⸺o had prudently shrunk,
And, like snail in its shell, snugly hid lay his trunk;
To the Priest then he cry’d, put your knife in its case,
Or, you terrible Cut P⸺k, I’ll piss in your face.
My Lord stood amaz’d, and the Rabbi was mum,