Fragments for Alma: All This Says Richard Is but Nonsense

All this says Richard is but Nonsense
For whats the Will without the Conscience
That mighty Pow'r by whom the thought
Is from Kings Bench to Chancery brought
What Seat for her have You assign'd
When She may view and sway the mind.

Dear Dick at Surgeons Hall they tell Ye
There are two Regions in the belly
The Diaphragma (You love Greek)
The Midriff as the Vulgar speak
Lyes between both that thou may'st know
How far the bounds of either go
As in the Tennis-court the Nett
Determines either Parties bett
Or Berwick whilom did distinguish
The Limitts between Scots and English.
For hark You, Richard, shou'd we put
The Conscience lower towards the Gut
It wou'd remain inept and quiet
And stil go downward with our Diet
Hence the Desires She wou'd Produce
Wou'd all be Sordid Base & Loose.

Now place her in a higher part
Amid'st the Region of the heart
From thence so many Conduits lead
Directly upward to the head
That mounting by too swift advances
And bursting in ten thousand fancys
She wou'd from Neighborhood of place
Be always flying in your face
And fire your Brain with so much Heat
That You wou'd neither Sleep nor Eat