the satyr lived in times remote,

a shape half-human and half-goat,

who, having all man's faults combined

with a goat's nature unrefined,

was not what you would call a bright

example or a shining light.

far be it from me to condone

the satyr's sins, yet i must own

i like to think there were a few

young satyrs who to heaven flew,

and when saint peter, thunder browed,

seeing them, cried, "no goats allowed!"

although the gate slammed quickly to,

somehow their human halves got through;

whereat the kindly saint relented,

and that's how cherubs were invented.