‘ T was a maiden lady ( the newspapers say )
Pious and prim and a bit gone-gray.
She slept like an angel, holy and white,
Till ten o’ the clock in the shank o’ the night
( When men and other wild animals prey )
And then she cried in the viewless gloom:
“There's a man in the room, a man in the room!”
And this maiden lady ( they make it appear )
Leapt out of the window, five fathom sheer!
Alas, that lying is such a sin
When newspaper men need bread and gin
And none can be had for less than a lie!
For the maiden lady a bit gone-gray
Saw the man in the room from across the way,
And leapt, not out of the window but in —
Ten fathom sheer, as I hope to die!