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ALEXANDRIA

It was in Alexandria,
In wicked Alexandria,
When nights were wild with revelry
And life was but a game.
There lived, so the report is an
Adventuress and courtesan
The pride of Alexandria
And Thais was her name.

Nearby in peace and piety
Avoiding all society
There dwelt a band of holy men
Who'd built a refuge there
And in the desert's solitude
They spurned all earthly folly to
Devote themselves to holy works,
To fasting and to prayer

Now the one I solely mention
Of this band of holy men
His name was Athanael
He was famous wide and far
At fasting bouts or prayer with him
No other could compare with him
At ground and lofty praying
He could do the course in par.

One night while sleeping heavily,
From fighting with the devil, he
Had gone to bed exhausted
While the sun was shining still.
He had a vision Freudian,
Although he was annoyed he an-
alyzed in the well known style
Of Doctors Jung and Brill.

He dreamt of Alexandria
Of wicked Alexandria
A crowd of men were cheering
In a manner rather rude,
At Thais who was dancing there,
And Athanael glancing there
Observed her do the shimmy
In what artists call the nude.

Said he, "These dreams fantastical
Disturb my thoughts monastical.
Some unsuppressed desire, I fear,
Has found my monkish cell.
I blush up to the hat o'me
To view that girl's anatomy.
I'll go to Alexandria
And save her soul from hell".

So pausing not to wonder where
He'd put his winter underwear,
He quickly packed his evening clothes,
His toothbrush and his vest.
To guard against exposure he
Threw in some woolen hosiery,
And bidding all the boys goodbye,
He started on his quest.

The monk though warned and fortified
Was deeply shocked and mortified
To find on his arrival
Wild debauchery in sway.
While some lay in a stupor sent
By booze of more than two percent,
The others were behaving
In a most immoral way.

Said he to Thais, "Pardon me,
Although this job is hard on me,
I've got to put you wise to what
I've come down here to tell.
What's all this sousing getting you?
Cut out this pie-eyed retinue,
Let's hit the trail together, kid,
And save your soul from hell."

Although this bold admonishment
Caused Thais some astonishment,
She coyly answered, "Say you said
A heaping mouthful, bo.
This burg's a frost, I'm telling you,
The brand of hooch they're selling you,
Ain't like the stuff we used to get
In Kansas City, Mo."

So forth from Alexandria,
From wicked Alexandria,
Across the desert's burning sands,
Beneath the blazing sun.
Till Thais, parched and sweltering,
Found refuge in the sheltering
Seclusion of a convent
And the habit of a nun.

Alas the monk is terrified
To find his fears are verified.
His holy vows of chastity have
Cracked beneath the strain.
Like one who has a jag on, he
Cries out in grief and agony,
"I'd sell my soul to see her do
The shimmy once again."

Alas, his pleadings clamorous,
Though passionate and amorous,
Have come too late, the courtesan
Has danced her final dance.
The monk says, "What a joke on me
For that there dame to croak on me,
I hadn't oughta passed her up,
The time I had the chance."

The moral of this story is
That piety censorious
Is best appreciated in
A sermon or a book.
At other times the consequence
Of unacted-on concupiscence
Is moral constipation 
Like what Athanael shook.