I found this poem online years ago, and since then I have only found one other page that has it in it's entirety. It's an epic poem by Samuel Butler, but not the same one who wrote "The Way Of All Flesh." This Samuel Butler seemed to have a thing or two to say about dildos, much more than even today's rank flesh-mongers can think up. It's probably the greatest dirty poem of all time, and it deserves to be read by more people. The version I have was missing some lines that I found on another site. This is as complete as I can make it for the time being. Enjoy!
"The following poem by the author of Hudibras was occasioned by the public burning of a hogshead of dildoes at Stocksmarket in 1672."
Such a sad tale prepare to hear,
As claims from either sex a tear.
Twelve dildoes meant for the support
Of aged lechers of the Court
Were lately burnt by impious hand
Of trading rascals of the land,
Who envying their curious frame,
Expos'd those Priaps to the flame.
Oh! barbarous times! when deities
Are made themselves a sacrifice!
Some were composed of shining horns,
More precious than the unicorn's.
Some were of wax, where ev'ry vein,
And smallest fibre were made plain.
Some were for tender virgins fit,
Some for the large falacious slit
Of a rank lady, tho' so torn,
She hardly feels when child is born.
Dildo has nose, but cannot smell,
No Stink can his great courage quell;
At sight of Plaisters hee’l not fail,
Nor faintly ask you what you ail;
Woman must have both Youth and Beauty
E're pintle, damn'd rogue, will do his duty,
And then sometimes he will not stand too,
Whate'er his gallant or mistress can do.
But I too long have left my heroes,
Who fell into worse hands than Nero's,
Twelve of them shut up in a box,
Martyrs as true as are in Fox
Were seiz'd upon as goods forbidden,
Deep, under unlawful traffick hidden;
When Council grave, of deepest beard,
Were call'd for, out of city-herd.
But see the fate of cruel treachery,
Those goats in head, but not in lechery,
Forgetting each his wife and daughter,
Condemn'd these dildoes to the slaughter;
Cuckolds with rage were blinded so,
They did not their preservers know.
One less fanatic than the rest,
Stood up, and thus himself address'd:
These dildoes may do harm, I know;
But pray what is it may not so;
Plenty has often made men proud,
And above Law advanc'd the crowd:
Religion's self has ruin'd nations,
And caused vast depopulations;
Yet no wise people e'er refus'd it,
'Cause knaves and fools sometimes abus'd it.
Are you afraid, lest merry griggs
Will wear false pricks like periwigs;
And being but to small ones born,
Will great ones have of wax and horn;
Since even that promotes our gain,
Methinks unjustly we complain,
If ladies rather chuse to handle
Our wax in dildo than in candle,
Much good may't do 'era, so they pay for it,
And that the merchants never stay for't.
For, neighbours, is't not all one, whether
In dildoes or shoes they wear our leather?
Whether of horn they make a comb,
Or instrument to chafe the womb,
Like you, I Monsieur Dildo hate;
But the invention let's translate.
You treat 'em may like Turks or Jews,
But I'll have two for my own use,
Priapus was a Roman deity,
And much has been the world's variety,
I am resolv'd I'll none provoke,
From the humble garlic to the oak.
He paus'd, another straight steps in,
With limber prick and grisly chin,
And thus did his harangue begin:
For soldiers, maim'd by chance of war,
We artificial limbs prepare;
Why then should we bear so much spite
To lechers maim'd in am'rous fight?
That what the French send for relief,
We thus condemn as witch or thief?
By dildoe, Monsieur there intends
For his French pox to make amends;
Dildoe, without the least disgrace,
May well supply the lover's place,
And make our elder girls ne'er care for't,
Though 'twere their fortune to dance bare-foot.
Lechers, whom clap or drink disable,
Might here have dildoes to the navel.
And with false Heat and Member too
Rich widow for Convenience Woe.
Did not a lady of great honour
Marry a footman waiting on her?
When one of these, timely apply'd,
Had eas'd her lust, and sav'd her pride,
Safely her ladyship might have spent,
While such gallants in pocket went.
Honour itself might use the trade,
While dildo goes in masquerade.
For such without the least disgrace,
May fill the Lusty Footman’s Place,
Which of us able to prevent is
His girl from lying with his 'prentice,
Unless we other means provide
For nature to be satisfy'd?
And what more proper than his engine,
Which would outdo 'em, should three men join.
I therefore hold it very foolish,
Things so convenient to abolish;
Which should we burn men justly may
To that one act the ruin lay,
Of all that thrown themselves away.
At this, all parents' hearts began
To melt apace, and not a man
In all the assembly, but found
These reasons solid were and sound.
Poor widows then with voices shrill,
And shouts of joy the hall did fill;
For wicked pricks have no mind to her,
Who has no money, nor no jointure.
Then one in haste broke thro' the throng,
And cry'd aloud,
Are we among
Heathens or devils, to let 'scape us
The image of the God Priapus?
Green-sickness girls will strait adore him,
And wickedly fall down before him.
From him each superstitious hussy
Will temples make of tussy mussy.
Idolatry will fill the land,
And all true pricks forget to stand.
Curst be the wretch, who found these arts
Of losing us to women's hearts;
For will they not henceforth refuse one
When they have all that they had use on?
Or how shall I make one to pity me,
Who enjoys Man in his epitome?
Besides, what greater deviation
From sacred fights of propagation,
Than turning th'action of the pool
Whence we all come to ridicule?
The man that would have thunder made,
With Brazen Head for Courser laid
In my mind did not half so ill do.
As he that found this wicked dildo.
Then let's with common indignation,
Now cause a sudden conflagration
Of all these instruments of lewdness;
And, ladies, take it not for rudeness;
For never was so base a treachery
Contriv'd by mortals against lechery,
Men would kind husbands seem, and able,
With feign'd lust, and borrow'd bawble.
Lovers themselves would dress their passion
In this fantastic new French fashion;
And with false heart and member too,
Rich widows for convenience woo.
But the wise City will take care,
That men shall vend no such false ware.
See now th'unstable vulgar mind
Shook like a leaf with ev'ry wind;
No sooner has he spoke, but all
With a great rage for faggots call:
The reasons which before seem'd good,
Were now no longer understood.
This last speech had the fatal power
To bring the dildoes' latest hour.
Priapus thus, in box opprest,
Burnt like a phoenix in her nest;
But with this fatal difference dies,
No dildoes from the ashes rise.
Notes:1) grigg is literally a grasshopper. 2) Tussy mussy, or tuzzy-muzzy, means a nosegay or bouquet garni. It's also used for an old man's beard (i.e. clemitis) and by association, a cunt. C.f. E. Ward: "And salt as Lot's wife's tuzzy-muzzy".