A Touch at the Lady's Tails
LUST does somewhat Rampant prove,
And strait is Christ'ned into LOVE.
So that tho' Beasts we are in Shame,
We must be LOVERS all in Name.
We of the Tail an Idol make,
And doat upon't for Fancies sake.
The Black we see do Fair admire,
And Fare there be that Black desire.
A sort there is affects the CRUMP,
And all alike, but for the RUMP.
BUMOGRAPHY is still the Theam
Of ev'ry Lover in his Dream.
Our Thoughts create the pretty Creature,
And our Tongues commend the Feature.
Or else the Tail first warms Desire,
And then the Face maintains the Fire.
Does not then Cupid's Eye-sight fail,
That for the Heart does wound the Tail.
Then Keeping-Cits are surely Blind,
That Doat on Women for their Kind;
For Tails are Fireships behind. [p. 7]
But Ladys that wear Cypress Veils,
(Turn'd lately to white Linnen Rails,)
Now to your Girdles wear your Bands,
And shew your Tears instead of Hands.
What cou'd you do in Lent so meet,
As fittest Dress, to wear a SHEET?
For Tail shou'd fast, you tempt us by't.
Yes, tempt us by't, and think no Ill,
"For Cracks, whose wanton Eyes do kill,
"Will turn up Tails for half a Gill.
"And think no greater Obligation,
"Than the Sweet Tye of Copulation.
This makes me think of Grays-Inn-Walks,
Where Crack oft sits disconsolate,
Cursing the Rigour of her Fate;
(For SHE-TAILS now scarce Earn their Bread,
Since HE-WHORES learnt the Sodom-Trade.)
'Till Squire Insipid having spy'd her,
Takes Heart of Grace and squats beside her.
He thus accosts -- Madam, By God,
You are at once both fair and sad.
She impudently does submit
To all the BOMBAST of his Wit.
The Bargain made, she first is led
To the Three Tuns, and so to Bed. [p. 8]
If this be Love, (as 'tis I guess)
Some Doat to such a mad Excess,
Nothing but Tail can make it less.
By Tail I mean that Rampant Mass
That sends our very Calves to Grass.
That Tempting Rump, that meer Decoy,
That wasts our Strength to give us Joy.
The Virgin Tail is a Lampoon!
And Marriage is but Honey-Moon.
The Virgin Tail is so Accurst,
Enjoyment ne're did cure Lust;
Fruition, with Fruition's burst.
Yet Dotage is a growing Evil;
Nay, Dotage sure is the Devil.
In Paradice he made his Suit,
And Doated 'till Eve eat the Fruit.
And ever since that Doating Match,
All Virgin Tails have got the Itch.
Nor are their Flames to Man confin'd,
But raging, seize on their own Kind.
Men's kissing Men has brought such Harms,
Their Love springs now from Female Charms,
And Man they mimick in each others Arms.
And here such Deeds remain untold,
Too gross for modest Ears to hold.
Cou'd you but hear the Fine Harangue
In Private, to their Female Gang,
The Blood into your Cheeks wou'd rush,
And Cresswell (were she living) blush.
The Thoughts of this shou'd make us fly
The Virgin Tail 'Tis Venery.
Love that is Chaste, is Love in Truth,
But where's the SHE that's Chaste in Youth? [p. 18]
SOURCE: [John Dunton], Bumography: or, A Touch at the Lady's Tails, Being a Lampoon (privately) dispers'd at Tunbridge-Wells, in the Year 1707. By a Water-Drinker. London, 1707. (This was probably published on 29 November 1707)
CITATION: If you cite this Web page, please use the following citation:
Rictor Norton (Ed.), "Bumography, 1707",
Homosexuality in Eighteenth-Century England: A Sourcebook, 26 February 2003, updated 15 June 2008