Classic Poem

'Twas cold, and young Roger had Leave from the 'Squire
To cleave some dry Blocks to recruit his Wife's Fire;
When, at every Blow, from his Stomach there broke
A Hem, or a Hah, near as loud as the Stroke.

His Wife standing by, and demanding the Reason,
Quoth Hodge , these Emissions in labouring ease one:
For while Voice and Members at once thus employ'd are,
I drive the Wedge further, and make the Slit wider.

Attentive Joan heard, and was silent 'till Night,
When Roger performing the conjugal Rite,
In the midst of the rapturous, amorous Game,
She pinch'd him, and pull'd him, and bid him cry him cry Hem.

Hodge knew what she meant, but unable to give
A Comfort so long as his Spouse could receive;
He cry'd, my Dear Jewel, I can Hem no more in;
There's Odds you must know between cleaving and boring .