Mephistopheles Perverted

Once long ago there lived a Flea

Who kept such a fine, fat King,

Not that he held with royalty,

But the appearance of the thing,

And gave his Majesty to hold

(Such pageantries are far too few)

A sword of ruby-hilted gold

That might hack a cheese in two;

But lest this glory might begin

To prove the regency too far,

His thunderbolt they made of tin,

And changed his godship for another Star.

Thus when the Monarch drove abroad,

With stars like buttons round his chest,

God-fearing Fleas would all applaud,

And grudging Lice be so impressed.

Such relics every Flea must flaunt,

If only as the final trump

That mocks Materialism's taunt,

There’s more to life than Suck and Jump

Once long ago—but not so long—

A King went curing scrofula . . .

The chorus of this charming song,

is Ha, Ha, Ha.