As for that.....
The chivalrous man, O grievous fact,
From front and from rear has been attacked,
The odds against him unfairly stacked,
Though he isn't quite extinct.
One branch of his foes is fellow men,
Who want to live life as pigs in pen;
They never desire to hear again
How duty and strength are linked.
These men, called by Lewis "trousered apes,"
Wish only to -- let's say stomp the grapes.
They don't want to put on heroes' capes,
They just want their pleasure now.
They don't want to rise above the mud;
They swim in the sewer, dine on crud;
They're certainly loath to shed their blood;
They don't know the why and how.
There's more to be said, as you'll suspect.
Politically, though, it's incorrect
To say there are WOMEN who reject
What's noble and pure and grand.
They say women are invincible,
While doing things quite despicable;
They mock every moral principle,
As much as the crudest man.
Such women despise the truest knights:
"We're goddesses, fighting our own fights!"
Yet if they should lose to troglodytes,
You're certain to hear them shout:
"Hey, where did the gallant heroes go?
We needed them here! They ought to know
That service to us is what they owe--
So why did they all run out?"
A hero may come, swift as the Djinns,
To rescue the girls; but once he wins,
They'll thank him by kicking both his shins--
"You caveman! You chauvinist!"
Ingratitude will not reinforce
The willingness of the man on horse
To hazard his life against brute force
With rifle or sword or fist.
So, ladies, if you're so confident
That women are all omnipotent,
Don't ask anymore where heroes went;
You drove them away yourselves.
Now, guess what remains with heroes gone?
That's right, only goons with brainless brawn,
And weaklings who meekly beg and fawn,
In place of heroic Elves.
"Is everything hopeless, then?" you ask.
"Will no man again wear Zorro's mask?"
Recovery is a crushing task--
But hope never truly dies.
Now, brace yourselves: the Creator God
Is masculine! With a kingly nod,
He can restore heroes on our sod;
But they must be recognized.
The chivalrous man, unlike the knave,
Does not see a woman as a slave,
But human, someone to love and save;
So credit him for that much!
Let heroes, not gangsters, be admired,
Let husbands, not lechers, be desired,
Let brothers and sons be thus inspired,
To give the protective touch.
