When the world was very young

And agog with derring-do,

Knights went courting maids who hung

Chained, for dragons' teeth to chew;

Found their lass, and set her free,

Having duly on the spot

Slain the dragon (or, maybe,

Having failed to slay, did not).

Later, when your maid demure,

Long of lash and coy of mien,

Seemed a conquest swift and sure,

Fiercer monsters stepped between:

Mrs. Grundies, grey and grim,

Kept Miss Proper closely tied;

Beaus dissolved before the prim

Portly dragon at her side.

Now there dawns a lighter day;

Chaperons are nearly dead;

Undefended lies the way

For your amorous wight to tread,

Yet we still must pay our toll,

We who woo the guarded rose:

Frightful at the very goal

Lurks the dragon by her nose.

Modern maidens, if upon

Cheeks that court the curious stare

Voluntarily you don

This insane pictorial wear,

Know your tricks intrigue us not,

Frankly, ladies, they appal;

Out, I say, out, damnÉd spot!

We don't like your cheek at all.