Table of Contents

The Benefits of Farting Explained

Lovely Babe of Maid of Honour, 

Every Grace shall smile upon her,

Sweetest Warbler of the Tail,

Soft as Breeze of Southern Gale;

Or the fanning Zephyrs Blast,

Over Beds of Spices past;

Gentle Puff of fragrant Air,

Squeez’d from Breech of Virgin Fair; 

‘Tis by Thee the Fair discover,

Proof of Vigour in a Lover;

Silent Fizzle; or Speaking Fart,

Easily both Ease impart;

Sweet Fore-boder, joyful Sound,

To the Belly that’s hard bound;

Cure of Cholick, Cure of Gripes,

Tuneful Drone of lower Pipes.

Thus the Winds in Cavern pent,

Widen Holes, and force a Vent;

Stealing Whisper, ‘scape of Bum,

Soft as Flute, or loud as Drum;

Downwards breathing, backwards sigh, 

Happy Smock that lies so nigh;

Happy she that can this Way,

Shut her Mouth, but loudly Bray.

Of Chloe all the Town has rung;

By ev’ry size of Poets sung:

So beautiful a Nymph appears

But once in Twenty Thousand Years.

By Nature form’d with nicest Care,

And, faultless to a single Hair.

Her graceful Mein, her Shape, and Face, 

Confest her of no mortal Race:

And then, so nice, and so genteel;

Such Cleanliness from Head to Heel:

No Humours gross, or frowzy Steams,

No noisom Whiffs, or sweaty Streams, 

Before, behind, above, below,

Could from her taintless Body flow.

Would so discreetly Things dispose,

None ever saw her pluck a Rose.

Her dearest Comrades never caught her 

Squat on her Hams, to make Maid’s Water.

You’d swear, that so divine a Creature 

Felt no Necessities of Nature.

In Summer had she walkt the Town,

Her Arm-pits would not stain her Gown: 

At Country Dances, not a Nose

Could in the Dog-Days smell her Toes.

Her Milk-white Hands, both Palms and Backs, 

Like Iv’ry dry, and soft as Wax.

Her Hands the softest ever felt,

*Tho’ cold would burn, tho’ dry would melt.

DEAR Venus, hide this wond’rous Maid, 

Nor let her loose to spoil your Trade.

While she engrosseth ev’ry Swain,

You but o’er half the World can reign.

Think what a Case all Men are now in, 

What ogling, sighing, toasting, vowing!

What powder’d Wigs! What Flames and Darts!

What Hampers full of bleeding Hearts!

What Sword-knots! What Poetic Strains!

What Billet-doux, and clouded Cains!

BUT, Strephon sigh’d so loud and strong, 

He blew a Settlement along:

And, bravely drove his Rivals down

With Coach and Six, and House in Town.

The bashful Nymph no more withstands, 

Because her dear Papa commands.

The charming Couple now unites;

Proceed we to the Marriage Rites.

IMPRIMIS, at the Temple Porch

Stood Hymen with a flaming Torch.

The smiling Cyprian Goddess brings