Fair dames of the land will acknowledge my power,
And Scientists sage will be slaves at my feet;
Offers of marriage I'll get in full shower,
And fools in my cause in their thousands will meet.
They'll trot out each new "scientific" vagary,
Some hope of escape to my prison to bring,
And scribes on my case will be sportive and airy
And tell how I look, eat, sleep, dress, talk or sing.
Those I have butchered will get scant attention,
Interest's sure to be centred in me.