A King of France and the Fair Lady

A king of France upon a day,
With a fair lady of his court,
Was pleased at battledore to play
A very fashionable sport,

Into the bosom of this fair court dame,
Whose whiteness did the snow's pure whiteness shame,
King Louis by odd mischance did knock
The shuttlecock,
Thrice happy rogue, upon the town of doves,
To nestle with the pretty little loves!
"Now, sire, pray take it out"--quoth she,
With an arch smile,--But what did he?
What? what to charming modesty belongs!
Obedient to her soft command,
He raised it--but not with his hand!
No, marveling reader, but the chimney tongs,

What a chaste thought in this good king!
How clever!
When shall we hear agen of such a thing?
Lord! never,
Nor were our princes to be prayed
To such an act by some fair maid,
I'll bet my life not one would mind it:
But handy, without more ado,
The youths would search the bosom through,
Although it took a day to find it!