Have Some Madeira, M’Dear

She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice
She was fair, she was sweet seventeen
He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice
He was base, he was bad, he was mean
He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
To view his collection of stamps
And he said as he hastened to put out the cat
The wine, his cigar and the lamps:

Have some madeira, m'dear. You really have nothing to fear
I'm not trying to tempt you, that wouldn't be right
You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night
Have some madeira, m'dear. It's really much nicer than beer
I don't care for sherry, one cannot drink stout
And port is a wine I can well do without...
It's simply a case of chacun à son goût
Have some madeira, m'dear

Unaware of the wiles of the snake-in-the-grass
And the fate of the maiden who topes
She lowered her standards by raising her glass
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did!
He promptly refilled it again
And he said as he secretly carved one more notch
On the butt of his gold-headed cane:

Have some madeira, m'dear
I've got a small cask of it here
And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep
Do finish it up. It will help you to sleep
Have some madeira, m'dear
It's really an excellent year
Now if it were gin, you'd be wrong to say yes
The evil gin does would be hard to assess..
Besides it's inclined to affect me prowess
Have some madeira, m'dear

Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said
With her antepenultimate breath
"Oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red
Be prepared for a fate worse than death! "
She let go her glass with a shrill little cry
Crash! Tinkle! It fell to the floor;
When he asked, "What in Heaven?" She made no reply
Up her mind, and a dash for the door

Have some madeira, m'dear
Rang out down the hall loud and clear
With a tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air
Have some madeira, m'dear
The words seemed to ring in her ear
Until the next morning, she woke in her bed
With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head...
And a beard in her lug 'ole that tickled and said:
Have some madeira, m'dear!