Classic Poem

Against Homosexuality

Forlorn Saphira, with reclining head,
Sighs for her absent lord in bridal bed;
He to St. James's Park with rapture flies,
And roams in search of some vile ingle prize;
Courts the foul pathic in the fair one's place,
And with unnatural lust defiles his race.
From whence could such polluted wretches spring,
How learn to propagate so foul a sin?
The sons of Sodom were destroyed by fire,
Gomorrah felt the Lord's destructive fire:
The great metropolis of England's isle
Had like to've been the nation's funeral pile.
Bold race of men! whom nothing can affright,
Not e'en their consciences in dead of night.
Let Jesuits some subtler pains invent,
For hanging is too mild a punishment;
Let them lay groaning on the racking-wheel,
Or feel the tortures of the burning steel,
Whips, poisons, daggers, inquisitions, flames:
This crime the most exalted vengeance claims;
Or else be banished to some desert place,
And perish in each other's foul embrace.