Classic Poem

When I was twenty-one, I swore,
If I should ever wed,
The maiden that I should adore
Should have a classic head;
Should have a form quite Junoesque;
A manner full of grace;
A wealth of hirsute picturesque
Above a piquant face.

But I, alas! am perjured, for
I’ve wed a dumpy lass
I much despised in days of yore,
Of quite the plainest class,
Because each maiden of my dream,
Whose favor I did seek,
Was so opposed unto my scheme
I married Jane in pique.