Song for the Clatter-Bones
Higgins, F. R. (1896-1941)

  God rest that Jewy woman,
  Queen Jezebel, the bitch
  Who peeled the clothes from her shoulder-bones
  Down to her spent teats
  As she stretched out of the window
  Among the geraniums, where
  She chaffed and laughed like one half daft
  Titivating her painted hair--

  King Jehu he drove to her,
  She tipped him a fancy beck;
  But he from his knacky side-car spoke,
  "Who'll break that dewlapped neck?"
  And so she was thrown from the window;
  Like Lucifer she fell
  Beneath the feet of the horses and they beat
  The light out of Jezebel.

  That corpse wasn't planted in clover;
  Ah, nothing of her was found
  Save those grey bones that Hare-foot Mike
  Gave me for their lovely sound;
  And as once her dancing body
  Made star-lit princes sweat,
  So I'll just clack:  though her ghost lacks a back
  There's music in the old bones yet.

Immortal Poems of the English Language (Williams)