Classic Poem

Today before a learn'd audience comes
A play we know too well — witness our bums,
Where deep indenting birch such tragic scenes
Has drawn to life as would amaze your brains:
Believe me, Sirs, I'd many an aching heart,
And many a stripe, to make me get my part;
And after all, ah tyrannising r — gue!
Imposes on my memory this damned prologue.
Well faith, if I am fated e'er to squeak
In hollow scenes, it shall not be in Greek;
There's such a peal of hard words to be rung,
As spoils the brain and after cracks the lung.
Had he adapted for our waxen age,
A Barring-out to play upon this stage,
Especially considered time of year,
He need not its success or our performance fear.
Each boy his part so hero-like had done,
So well employed his powder, pease and gun,
So bravely his assaults repulsed, as you
Could not but be engaged our leave to sue.
The Fair, for certain, would have stood our friend,
Charmed that our fortress we'd so well defend,
In hopes one day that the young cavaliers
Would show with better grace in red and bandoliers.
And you, as well as they, will this confess,
That this same red has a damned taking grace;
For though black coats as potent be and able,
They're better pleased with gules than they're with sable.
But now I recollect, if more I speak
In English (my performance lies at stake),
The d — l a word I'll have just now in Greek.