The Renaissance Priest Ii Poem by David McLansky

I cannot fault him for his daughter,
But for his son, that Lucifer!
That thief, that devil, that miscreant,
That evil doing lawless scamp;
He robs the ecclesiastic courts!
And if you believe even half the reports,
He spends the Fees for Blasphemy
On gambling, riot; oh foul simony!
Oh Cibo was his cross to bear,
You heard him mentioned everywhere;
Why he even invaded my house in Rome,
Fortunately my wife was home!
My dear dear wife, unsanctified,
How I wish you were my bride;
Cherished Sister Mary Elizabeth
We did not fall into Satan's grip;
How sweet her face beneath her wimple,
How pure her faith, how devout and simple;
What pleasure she has shared with me,
I forgave her sins of harlotry;
My cheery, sainted, devout Nun,
Who's enriched my life with seven sons;
I broke your vow of virginity,
But by the Holy Trinity,
I gladly paid the Dispensation;
Without so much as hesitation;
For our love within Christ's name,
Has freed us of all fault and blame;