The poem
Oh how it would enable me To titillate my vanity If you should choose to label me A Poet of Profanity! For I've been known with vulgar slang To stoke the Sacred Fire, And even used a word like 'hang', Suggesting ire.
Yea, I've been slyly told, although It savours of inanity, In print the ladies often show A failing for profanity. So to delight the dears I try, And often in the past In fabricating sonnets I Have fulminated: 'Blast!'
I know I shock the sober folk Who doubt my lyric sanity, And readers of my rhyme provoke By publishing profanity, But oh a hale and hearty curse Is very dear to me, And so I end this bit of verse With d-- and d-- and d--!