One of the staff recently attended a symposium on Scarce English,
Irish, and Scottish songs of the Georgian Era concentrating on the
period 1740-1840. Little did they realize there would be lyrical
content relevant to our interest here in the beautiful Internal
Cumshot Triangle, home of the world-renowned Colloquium Regarding
Ejaculation And Messy Pussy Intercourse Exchange.
Continuing THE C.R.E.A.M.P.I.E. long-established procedure of
"snipping" pertinent bits of local interest, we present interesting
stanzas from various songbooks and broadsides. As many of these tunes
consist of scores of verses this post will emphasize only the
creampie-related ones with perhaps a bit of lead-in.
Without further ado-
__________
Fit For Any Man.
-From NLS MS 6299, 1740-50-
Im a pretty maid and I swear by my life
what ever he is that will make me his wife
what ever his calling be, as I am a maid
I'll do my endeavour to work at his trade
With a fal al &c
...
If he be a joyner or any of them
I'll neatly guide his smoothing plane
with my lilly white hand I'll quide his pole
while he with his mell does drive it in whole
with my fall al &c
...
If he be a shoemaker poor or rich
his hinde quarters I'll neatly stitch
I'll wax his thread so fine with all
while he opens my bore with giggling awl
with my fal al &c
...
If he be a Brazier when in bed
Into my ladle I'll melt his lead
and close in my arms I will him hold
while he cast his metal in my mold
with a fal al &c
__________
The Lock that scatters Oonagh's Piss.
-from The Festival of Anacreon, 1789-
...
Upon her back he laid her,
turn'd up her smock so lilly white,
His joy to meet he prey'd her,
then gaz'd with wonder and delight!
Her Tits were, as snow fair,
and just between a crack:
With lips red, and o'er-spread
with curled moss of jetty black.
Transported Darby now beholds,
just glowing in the feast of bliss,
The Lock he long had wished to seize -
and that which scatters Oonagh's piss.
His piece stood erected,
his breeches down about his heels,
And what he long expected,
he now with boundless rapture feels:
Now enter'd, concenter'd,
the lovely maid lay in a trance,
His arse goes, like elbows
of fiddlers in a country-dance:
With broken sighs, the fair one cries,
oh! I'd part with life for joy like this!
With showers of sperm they jointly oil'd -
the lock that scatters Oonagh's piss.
-Version from Merry Muses, 'Dublin', 1825-
...
Upon her back he laid her,
Turn'd up her smock, so lily white;
With joy the youth surveyed her,
Then gaz'd with wonder and delight.
Her thighs were as snow fair,
And just between appeared a crack;
The lips were red, and overspread
With curly hairs of jetty black.
Transported, Darby now beholds
The sum of all his promis'd bliss,
And instantly he catch'd the lock
That scatters pretty Una's piss.
His piece stood erect,
His breeches down about his heels;
And what he long expected,
He now with boundless rapture feels.
The beauteous maid lay in a trance;
His arse goes like elbows
Now enter'd, now concenter'd,
Of fiddlers in a country dance.
The melting Una, now she cries,
I'd part with life for joys like this;
With show'rs of bliss they jointly oil'd
The lock that scatters Una's piss.
__________
The Rakes of Stony Batter
-circa 1740-
...
There's Joan a buxom Lass, met with lusty Johnny,
They went to take a glass, he call'd her dear and honey,
She said you silly Clown, take me round the middle,
Play me Bobbin Joan, or else I'll break your fiddle.
Hey for Bobbin Joan, Hey for Stony Batter, etc.
He gently laid her down, and he pull'd out his scraper,
He play'd her such a tune, which made her fart and caper;
She said my dearest John, your such a Jolly rover,
My cloak and gown I'll pawn, that you should n'er give over.
Hey for Bobbin Joan, Hey for Stony Batter, etc.
Come let us take a roam, up to Stony Batter,
Keep your Wife at home, for humpers will be at her,
Hey for cakes and ale, Hey for pretty misses,
That will never fail, for to crown our wishes.
Hey for Bobbin Joan, Hey for Stony Batter,
Keep your Wife at home or else I'll stop her water,
Is your apples ripe, are they fit for plucking,
Is your maid within, ready for the Fucking.
__________
The Way to Come over a Maid
-circa 1850-
If you'd get over a maid,
Tickle and amuse her;
Anything she asks,
Mind you ne'er refuse her.
Walk her out each day,
O'er the fields romantic;
Roll her in the hay,
With many a lustful antic.
Tol de rol, &c.
First her bubbies feel,
To raise her hot desire;
Next just feel her thigh,
Than a little higher!
If whe won't wince at that,
Put Bob in her grasp then;
And depend when it she feels,
She'll take a precious rasping!
Tol de rol, &c.
If she simpers "oh!"
Embrace her, then caress her;
Disrobe her form below,
Entwine round her and press her!
Soon you'll find her yield,
For her lusts gets stronger;
One more close embrace,
And she's a maid no longer!
Tol de rol, &c.
But if a widow you'd kiss,
You must be much bolder;
For as they've sipt the bliss,
They don't feel much the colder!
If you'd seduce a maid,
You must swear, and sigh, and flatter,
But if you'd win a widow,
You must down with your breeches and at her!
Tol de rol, &c.
_____
Just goes to show ya, they's a horny bunch across the pond,
centuries before Rod Stewart and "Tonight's the Night"
Come on angel, my hearts on fire
Don't deny your man's desire
You'd be a fool to stop this tide
Spread your wings and let me come inside...
.-.-.-.-.
\frizbee/
\cream/
\pie/
O
o
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