Banish the use of the four-letter words
Whose meanings are never obscure
The Angels and Saxons, those bawdy old birds,
Were vulgar, obscene, and impure.
But cherish the use of the weaseling phrase
That never says quite what you mean —
You’d better be known for your hypocrite ways
Than as ‘vulgar’, ‘obscene’, or ‘impure.
When nature is calling, plain speaking is out;
When the ladies, God bless ‘em, are milling about,
You may “wee-wee”. “make water”, or “empty the glass”
You can “powder your nose”; even “johnnie may pass;
“Shake the dew off the lily”, “see the man about a dog”,
When everyone’s soused, it’s “condensing the fog”;
But please to remember, if you would know bliss
That only in Shakespeare do character’s “—-“
A woman has bosoms, a bust, or a breast–
Those lily-white swellings that bulge ‘neath her vest
They are ‘towers of ivory’ or ‘sheaves of new wheat’;
In a moment of passion ‘ripe apples to eat.
You may speak of her nipples as ‘fingers of fire’
With hardly a question of raising her ire;
But by Rabelais beard, she will throw several fits
If you speak of them plainly as good, honest “—-“
It’s a ‘cavern of joy’ you are thinking of now;
A warm, tender field, awaiting the plow.
It’s a quivering pigeon caressing your hand,
Or the National Anthem – it makes us all stand.
Or perhaps it’s a flower, a grotte, a well.
The hope of the world or a velvety hell;
But, friend, heed this warning, beware the affront
Of aping the Saxon – don’t call it a “—-“
Tho a lady repels your advance; she’ll be kind
As long as you intimate what’s in your mind.
You may tell her you’re hungry; you need to be swung
You may ask her to see how your etchings are hung;
Or may mention the ashes that need to be hauled,
“Put the lid on her sauce pan”; even ‘lay’s not too bold
But the moment you’re forthright, get ready to duck
For the girl’s not yet born who’ll stand for “let’s —-“
So banish the word’s that Elizabeth used
When she was a queen on her throne
The modern maid’s virtue is easily bruised
By the four-letter words all alone
Let your morals be loose as an alderman’s vest
If your language is always obscure
Today, not the act, but the word, is the test
Of the vulgar, obscene and impure.
This little poetic ditty courtesy of My Grandfather, Major Ralph R. Hotchkiss