once there was a maiden fair
who spent her life in a morris chair
and when she heard the clock strike three
and saw it was still not time for tea
she ran her fingers through her long red hair
miss jocelyn jones had never been kissed
so she became a satanist
when she met the lord of the flies
and listened to his lies
his advances she did not resist
prudence peters was detected
disrespecting the family by whom she was protected
and so they turned her out of doors
amid the winter's harshest roars -
with sin her path soon intersected
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but of all the melancholy tales
of trusting and betrayed females
there are none so sweetly sad
as of those whose who met a certain cad...
the honorable charles st charles, of cheltenham and bath
through the ladies cut a swath
like a louche latin or lustful turk
he made of maidens much short work
and filled the highways, roads and lanes
with cast off kates and jilted janes
of such behavior from a son
of civilized christian albion
what can one do but sigh?
and turn a chastened eye
toward heaven's sorrowed gaze
and hope and pray for better days...
the honorable charles had his detractors
who thought him the worst of malefactors
but had his sympathizers too
who thought eve's daughters deserved their due
of blame for tempting the poor lad
spawn of a drunken sire and mother quite mad
orphaned indeed before the age of ten
and early taken up by sporting men
even as a smooth cheeked lad
there was a certain way charles had
of always seeming to acquiesce
in anything his fellows pressed
upon his burgeoning consciousness
sometimes more, but rarely less
he would nod polite approval
and never ask for the removal
of any new or old temptation
and with little contemplation
allow himself to plunge headfirst
into each appetite or thirst...
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