Classic Poem

To the Tune of Up tails all .

Full many a Ballad hath been Penn'd,
And scoffing Poem writ
Against the RUMP; but I intend
To speak in praise of it.
Come Jove and Apollo , come Venus and Mars ,
And lend your assistance: to speak of the A — —
Will require a prodigious wit.

There's scarce a Lady to be found
That loves either Pear or Plum
One half so well, if she be sound,
As tabering at her B — —
It may be, you'l say, I'm wide of the Case,
Since that Musick's made in a distant place;
I answer the bredth of your Thumb.

When Alderman Atkins did bemar
His Hose through a Panick fear,
And Captain Rea that man of War,
Oh! what a Hogo was there?
If you ask me, what praise is in this? at a word,
The Captain so fenced himself by a T — —
That his Enemies could not come near.

There is not a Lawyer in Country or Town,
Whose Rhetorick doth prevail,
Although he hath purchas'd Fee simple by th' Gown,
But loves to be dealing in Tail;
And I may well swear by Apollo or Mars ,
That at a Place called, the Oven's Arse ,
Oft times I have drunk good Ale.

And when you are dallying with a young Maid,
Would you not her Buttocks bethump?
And I have been often well apaid
With a Goose both fat and plump:
The Body being Eaten, we strive for the Tayl,
Each man with his Kan'kn of nappy brown Ale,
Doth box it about for the RUMP .

The RUMP of a Coney I often have seen
Most piteously claw'd by a Ferret,
And a Capons Rump is a bit for a Queen,
Although she's a Person of merit.
In preaching and praying who spends the whole day,
At night keeps a Rump wherewithall for to play,
Be he never so full of the spirit.

I wonder who first call'd the Parliament RUMP ,
Some say, that it was Jack Hobby ,
And some, fiery P — — good wits will jump;
Now I write not this to bob ye,
But only to tell ye that good Mr. P — —
For all that he's cropt, yet he could not get in,
But was fain to remain in the Lobby .

The other day I was going in haste,
(To think on't it grieves my heart)
I saw a poor Fellow all nak'd to the waste,
And whipt at the Arse of a Cart:
His Rump ('tis true) suffer'd the Rout. But I would
Fain know who it was, that durst be so bold,
As to call Mr. Speaker Sir F — — —

He might as well have stiled him Anus ,
Since he was the mouth of the RUMP .
As cunning a Fox as Romes Sejanus:
But I do not love for to frump;
Or else I could tell ye, my Friends, to an Ace,
What good can acrew to the Land by the Mace,
As long as the Knave's the great'st Trump.

Our zealous sticklers for Reformation
Will edifie on the Rump of a Sister,
And it will never grow out of fashion
To Physick the Tayl with a Glister.
But beware that Monk doth not come with a bitter
Purge to the Rump which will make her beshit her,
For she hath already bepist her.