Entertainment at Stamboul

By Robert James DeBurgh (Poet)

John Gascoigne, and his Lovely wife Germaine,
Are singing duets that they got in Spain,
He does not see her Eyes, like Rhenish Wine,
He hears her words, and sighs; her Eyes see Mine!

I well remember many years ago
Those Gallic Eyes, the whites as pure as Snow
That lingers until Spring,
Had flashed and taught my Heart to sing.

Coquettish Lady, hide behind your fan,
For though your Husband's there, as I'm a Man
I swear I'll grab you here before the Crowd
And plant a burning Kiss upon your mouth.

But what is this!? The Consul's taken ill !
Oh someone run and get the man a Pill.
Now while the mob is so distracted,
Her Fantasy shall Live, and out I'll act it!

John Gascoigne's on his knees, the salts in hand,
The Consul's on the floor, Oh this is Grand!
Now she and I do steal behind the palms....
Oh Reader! Draw a veil, but have no Qualms.

All eyes are on the Consul's blanched face,
And no-one sees us in our secret place.
But in her Secret Place I place my Thrust!
The Universe re-echoes our wild lust.

When later in the evening all's restored
And I am feeling ennui, quite Bored...
All hailing, 'cross the room comes John, no Strife,
And says "Come James... come, meet my Wife"

Istanbul 1893

NOTES ON PROVENANCE:
This Work was found among the private papers of the late Lady Germaine Gascoigne, widow of the late Sir John Gascoigne, by her housekeeper Bertha O'Reilly. Mrs O'Reilly graciously donated this Work to The Society after failing in her attempts to sell it to the British Tabloids for an outrageous sum of money.

In recognition of her generosity The Society presented Mrs O'Reilly with a framed slab of cheese and a loaf of mouldy bread.....
(well what did you expect? It's bleeding obvious the fat old cow stole the bloody thing isn't it??....)