The Pope he is a happy man, His palace is the Vatican, And there he sits and drains his can: The Pope he is a happy man. I often say when I'm at home, I'd like to be the Pope of Rome. And then there's Sultan Saladin, That Turkish Soldan full of sin; He has a hundred wives at least, By which his pleasure is increased: I've often wished, I hope no sin, That I were Sultan Saladin. But no, the Pope no wife may choose, And so I would not wear his shoes; No wine may drink the proud Paynim, And so I'd rather not be him: My wife, my wine, I love, I hope, And would be neither Turk nor Pope. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON ON THE ENGINE BY NIGHT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON PRAYER AFTER YOUTH by MAXWELL ANDERSON THE MOTHER-FAITH by EVERARD JACK APPLETON IF ONLY THOU ART TRUE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |