Gentlest Blast of ill Concoction,
Reverse of high-ascending Belch;
The stink abhorred by Scotchmen,
Beloved and practised by the Welch.
Softest note of inward Griping,
Sir Reverence's finest part;
So fine it needs no Pains of wiping,
Except it be a Brewer's Fart.
Swiftest Ease of Cholick Pains,
Vapour from a secret Stench,
That's rattled by the unbred Swains,
But whispered by the bashful Wench.
Shapeless Fart, we ne'r can shew thee,
But in that noble Female Sport,
In which by burning Blue we know thee,
Th' Amusement of the Maids at Court.