 | The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 |  |
145
The Judge With the Sore Rump
“Serva tibi minas!”
To a judge who was seated on high;
As (for some fatal crime)
He devoted some time
To prepare the poor culprit to die.
To a judge who was seated on high;
As (for some fatal crime)
He devoted some time
To prepare the poor culprit to die.
“What's that about mine a---e?”
(Says the judge to Aquinas,
And turned up his rump as he spoke)
“I've a boil on my bum,
Thrice as large as my thumb:
And see here!—the boil has just broke!”
(Says the judge to Aquinas,
And turned up his rump as he spoke)
“I've a boil on my bum,
Thrice as large as my thumb:
And see here!—the boil has just broke!”
Says Aquinas—“I find
That your tortures behind,
Are more than you threaten, by far:
So here end your farce,
And take care of your a---e;
And let me get out of the bar.”
That your tortures behind,
Are more than you threaten, by far:
So here end your farce,
And take care of your a---e;
And let me get out of the bar.”
Jan. 27, 1819
| The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 | |