A couple of 'religious' ones:

There was a young lady in Crewe
That the curate was longing to screw,
She said, 'I'd rather the Vicar,
He's thicker and quicker
And six times longer than you!'

There was a young curate named Bings,
Who discoursed upon God and such things,
But his secret desire
Was a boy in the choir
With a bum like two jellies on springs.

And a tongue-twister:

To his girl said the lynx-eyed detective,
'Could it be that my eyesight's defective?
Has your east tit the least bit
The best of your west tit---
Or is it my sense of perspective?'