The lady I choose for the theme of my lay
Is a portent "conspicuous even to-day,"
For, though she was freely condemned and abhorred,
She was never suppressed and she can't be ignored.

Her parents, most anxious to give a good time
To their children, if only they helped them to climb,
Unconsciously aiding the new Self-Expression
Left all from the start to their daughter's discretion.

No nurse was allowed to rebuke her or warn her,
No governess put her to stand in a corner;
At six she revealed a peculiar joy
In the taste of old brandy, and dressed like a boy;
At eight she had read Casanova, Cellini,
And driven a toasting-fork into a tweeny;
At ten she indited and published a story
Described by The Leadenhall News as "too gory."
One governess after another was tried,
But none of them stopped and one suddenly died.
Then she went for a while to a wonderful school
Which was run on the plan of the late Mrs. Boole;
But no "ethical safeguards" could ever restrain
So impulsive a heart and so fertile a brain;
And a fire, for the kindling of which she was held
Responsible, led to her being expelled.

On the strength of her fine pyromaniac rage
For a season or two she appeared on the stage;
Her dancing was crude and her voice was a blank,
But she carried it off by superlative swank,
And married a swarthy and elderly milli-
Onaire who was killed in an earthquake in Chile.
A militant during the Suffrage campaign,
In the War she adopted the cause of Sinn Fein,
And, according to credible witness, was seen
In the thick of the fighting at Easter, '16.
Escaping arrest by a dexterous dodge
She became a disciple of Oliver Lodge,
Gave lectures on Swedish and Swiss callisthenics,
Eurhythmics (Dalcroze) and Ukrainian eugenics.
Last, married in haste to a Bolshevist don,
She dyed her hair green and was painted by John,
Eloped with a squat anthropophagous Dago
And finds a fit home in Tierra del Fuego.