Have Some Madeira M'Dear
She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice,
She was fair, she was sweet seventeen.
He was old, he was vile and no stranger to vice,
He was base, he was bad, he was mean.
He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
To view his collection of stamps
And he said as he hastened to put out the cat,
His wine, his cigar and the lamps
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"You really have nothing to fear"
"I'm not trying to tempt you, now that wouldn't be right"
"You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"It's so very much nicer than beer"
"I don't care for Sherry and cannot drink Stout"
"And Port is a wine I can well do without"
"It's simply a case of chacun a son gout"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass
And the fate of the maiden who topes.
She lowered her standards by raising her glass,
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes.
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did
And quietly he filled it again
And he said as he secretly carved one more notch
On the butt of his gold-handled cane
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"I've got a small cask of it here"
"And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep""
"Let's finish it up, it will help you to sleep"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"It's really an excellent year"
"Now if it were gin, you'd be wrong to say yes"
The evil gin does would be hard to assess
(Besides, it's inclined to affect my prowess)
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said
With her ante-penultimate breath
"Oh, my child, should you look on the wine which is red"
"Be prepared for a fate worse than death"
She let go of her glass with a shy little cry
Crash, tinkle, it fell to the floor
When he said, "What in heaven"
She made no reply,but let out in a dash for the door
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Rang out down the hall, loud and clear
A tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she paused to take breath in the cool, midnight air.
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
The words seemed to ring in her ear.
Until the next morning she woke up, in bed,
With a smile on her lips, an ache in her head
And a beard on her earhole which tickled and said
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
She was fair, she was sweet seventeen.
He was old, he was vile and no stranger to vice,
He was base, he was bad, he was mean.
He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
To view his collection of stamps
And he said as he hastened to put out the cat,
His wine, his cigar and the lamps
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"You really have nothing to fear"
"I'm not trying to tempt you, now that wouldn't be right"
"You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"It's so very much nicer than beer"
"I don't care for Sherry and cannot drink Stout"
"And Port is a wine I can well do without"
"It's simply a case of chacun a son gout"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass
And the fate of the maiden who topes.
She lowered her standards by raising her glass,
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes.
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did
And quietly he filled it again
And he said as he secretly carved one more notch
On the butt of his gold-handled cane
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"I've got a small cask of it here"
"And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep""
"Let's finish it up, it will help you to sleep"
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
"It's really an excellent year"
"Now if it were gin, you'd be wrong to say yes"
The evil gin does would be hard to assess
(Besides, it's inclined to affect my prowess)
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said
With her ante-penultimate breath
"Oh, my child, should you look on the wine which is red"
"Be prepared for a fate worse than death"
She let go of her glass with a shy little cry
Crash, tinkle, it fell to the floor
When he said, "What in heaven"
She made no reply,but let out in a dash for the door
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
Rang out down the hall, loud and clear
A tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she paused to take breath in the cool, midnight air.
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
The words seemed to ring in her ear.
Until the next morning she woke up, in bed,
With a smile on her lips, an ache in her head
And a beard on her earhole which tickled and said
"Have some Madeira, m'dear?"
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