W. H. Auden
Messalina
Ay me, alas, heigh ho, heigh ho!
Thus doth Messalina go
Up and down the house a-crying
For her monkey lies a-dying
Death, thou art too cruel
To bereave her of her jewel;
Or to make a seizure
Of her only treasure
If her monkey die
She will sit and cry:
Fie, fie, fie, fie, fie!