Classic Poem

1.

When Monmouth the chaste read those impudent lines
Which have tied her dear monkey so fast by the loins,
Showed his jackanapes tricks and his apish false smiles,
And set him a-chattering aloft on the tiles,
She saw with a fright,
Howe'er they came by't,
The rogues had described pretty Whirligig right,
And none can be certain, when scandals begin
To draw so near home, but that they shall come in.

2.

She heard that the nine ladies' turn would be next,
And fearing some bungler should mangle the text,
And paint her sweet person like some hagged elf,
She wisely contrived how to draw it herself,
And luckily hit
On a method so fit
At once to display both her virtue and wit,
Not doubting to have from herself a good word,
And thus she bespoke the kind help of her lord:

3.

"Methinks this same Nine which they count so well writ
Has nothing of air, bon sens, or l' esprit;
The numbers so rough, and so harsh the cadence
As e'en blister a mouth embellished in France,
Come, pour amusement,
Let us make a song
And do our selves right whome'er we do wrong.
We'll give a beau tour to the feminine nine
Among whom my prudence and virtue shall shine.

4.

You yourself shall appear the great Turk of the scene
And I'll recommend you so far to the queen
And soothe the vain humor to which you incline
As to make you beloved by two of the Nine;
And that's very fair
For a poor sickly peer,
Who to my certain knowledge has nothing to spare;
And since these lampoons are the wit of the times,
I'll furnish the sense if you'll tag it with rhymes."

5.

Her spouse, fired at this, screamed aloud and cried forth,
And fetching his dead-doing pen in his wrath,
He worked off his piece with such art of the pen
That he aimed at the ladies, but wounded the men,
And labored so hard,
The doors were all barred,
And none were admitted but trusty Blanchard.
'Twas writ in such haste, you're desired to dispense
With the want of true grammar, good English, or sense.