OH,listen to the tale of MISTER WILLIAM,if you please,Whom naughty,naughty judges sent away beyond the seas.
He forged a party's will,which caused anxiety and strife,Resulting in his getting penal servitude for life.
He was a kindly goodly man,and naturally prone,Instead of taking others'gold,to give away his own.
But he had heard of Vice,and longed for only once to strike To plan ONE little wickedness to see what it was like.
He argued with himself,and said,"A spotless man am I;I can't be more respectable,however hard I try!
For six and thirty years I've always been as good as gold,And now for half an hour I'll plan infamy untold!
"A baby who is wicked at the early age of one,And then reforms and dies at thirtysix a spotless son,Is never,never saddled with his babyhood's defect,But earns from worthy men consideration and respect.
"So one who never revelled in discreditable tricks Until he reached the comfortable age of thirtysix,May then for half an hour perpetrate a deed of shame,Without incurring permanent disgrace,or even blame.
"That babies don't commit such crimes as forgery is true,But little sins develop,if you leave 'em to accrue;And he who shuns all vices as successive seasons roll,Should reap at length the benefit of so much selfcontrol.
"The common sin of babyhood objecting to be drest If you leave it to accumulate at compound interest,For anything you know,may represent,if you're alive,A burglary or murder at the age of thirtyfive.
"Still,I wouldn't take advantage of this fact,but be content With some pardonable folly it's a mere experiment.