Catches, canons and drinking songs
My man John had a thing that was long,
my maid Mary had a thing that was hairy,
my man John put his thing that was long
into my my Mary’s thing that was hairy,
my maid Mary then stirred it about,
till with stirring and stirring at length it came out,
but then my man John thrust it in once again,
and knocked it most stoutly to make it remain,
but John with much knocking so widened the hole,
that his long thing slipped out still in spite of his soul,
till wearied and vexed and with knocking grown sore,
cried a pox take the hole, for I’ll knock it no more.