by Gregory "Corsair" Klyve
In Oxford fair did Byron’s clan
A river-borne debauch decree,
Where Cherwell, mazy river, ran
Past em’rald fields, where many a man
So brave Childe Harolde took the task
To marshal forces and to ask
The Byronists to revel on the wave.
And for such wild excesses were in store,
Temptations rich intended to deprave,
Until even they should cry, ‘No more! No more!’
But, Oh! His pert and witty invitation
With poems and suggestive pictures crowned,
Which promised no respite from sweet sensation,
Completely failed t’arouse their inclination
And fell, like Toddy’s seed, on stony ground.
The choicest wines were bought, the meats prepar’d
And yet, despite the threats on all who dar’d
To absent be, did any condescend
To taste these fruits, or bother to attend?
Oh yes! A two or threesome here or there
Met up for tea and crumpets (ah how square!)
And once for lunch some stalwarts did arrive,
Pour out prose and verse parodic,
Ostracise the fainthearts all
If attendance is sporadic.
Bog–brush Mellors (geriatric),
Ignoble Noble and his sidekick
Nigel, Astbury and Amal,
Juliet and Nick Kalivas,
Sod them! Only true believers
Shall drink the milk of paradise.