Epitaph On A Tyrant

By W.H.Auden
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after, 

And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; 

He knew human folly like the back of his hand, 

And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; 

When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, 

And when he cried the little children died in the streets.