The Tower

In the heyday of the Tower
They used to execute somebody almost every hour.
The victims were all noble; no second-raters.
They were brought down the Thames in freighters,
And batched,
Like chickens about to be sexed,
And prayed over, and dispatched.
The King would say to the Queen, quite vexed:
“My dear, we’re running out of traitors;
I can’t think who to execute next.”