She was that fatal girl who said the worst goodnight.
No one but she!
None could have dished out poison with such right
Perceptive wit upon occasions
Of late merry-making when wine and beer,
Cakes and red cheese, dallied down
The honeyed round.
                              Skill! Skill!
Such women with such skill!
Super controllers of no destiny!

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of scorpions.
Jill came down
With daisy-chains
But Jack was bitten to ribbons.