Although we're quite respectable,
And virtuous, and old,
We love a lie, delectable,
If it's discreetly told.
A libel that is hot with spite
Affords us infinite delight.
But, oh! the Law's severity
Holds as an iron band;
It curbs our wild temerity,
And stays our dauntless hand.
Much defamation we would dare,
But Damages make us forbear.
Our duty to society
Is ever in our mind;
We stand for strict propriety -
For fear we should be fined.
We keep our sheet from libels free
Because it pays us best, you see.
We ever strive to stimulate
An arctic air of probity,
And virtues oft we fabricate
From nauseous necessity;
The pen is greater than the sword -
But Costs are things we can't afford.
First published in The Bulletin, 13 May 1915
