Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/161

 Of her wiles intervolved with caprice; And he gave her his realm to fleece, To corrupt, to ruin, and gave Himself for her toy and her slave: Harlotry's just the thing To bring as a gift for our king.

Who has a thing to bring For a gift to our lord the king, Our king who fears to die? A priest brought him a lie, The blackness of hell uprolled In heaven's shining gold; And he got as guerdon for that A see and a cardinal's hat: A lie is an excellent thing To bring as a gift for our king.

Has any one yet a thing For a gift to our lord the king? The country gave him a tomb, A magnificent sleeping-room; And for this it obtained some rest, Clear riddance of many a pest,