Elizabeth christened, no paler a rose

 Grew so dark as this sylph

 None more cold in repose

 Yet Her beauty spun webs

 Round hearts a glance would betroth



 She feared the light

 So when She fell like a sinner to vice

 Under austere, puritanical rule

 She sacrificed...

 Mandragora like virgins to rats in the wall

 But after whipangels licked prisoners, thralled

 Never were Her dreams so maniacally cruel

 (And possessed of such delights)

 For ravens winged Her nightly flights

 Of erotica

 Half spurned from the pulpit

 Torments to occur

 Half learnt from the cabal of demons

 In Her

 Her walk went to voodoo

 To see Her own shadow adored

 At mass without flaw

 Though inwards She abhored

 Not Her coven of suitors

 But the stare of their Lord!