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There sailed the good ship vanity,
Named after the gentle dame,
And everything to board her deck,
Was indeed, most vain.
From the captain to the cook,
And all those they took,
From England to fair, sunny Spain.
The Captain was sir Beautiful,
Known to be most dutiful,
And everywhere he'd roam,
He had with him a comb,
To sweep it through his hair,
Before he would declare,
That he, himself, was Beautiful.
The crew would sigh,
For they could not deny,
This unfortunate claim,
(Much as Beautiful was born plain)
Due to his Father's name.
So, they all, through need,
Agreed,
That this man was indeed,
-Beautiful.

One day a brave young man,
Strode onto the deck,
With seeming superfluity,
They challenged him,
That brave young man,
But a beautiful boy was he.
In the subsequent brawl,
They acted the fool,
For this he,
was actually,
-A she,
And no ordinary she,
But the Good Queen Vanity.
Captain Beautiful turned quite pale,
Yet the crew turned rather green,
Then they all turned red with anger,
At the beauty of their queen.

"This is my good ship,
A fine ship she is too,
With you rests her loyalty,
As her name belongs to You."
These were the words of Beautiful,
(I had warned that he was dutiful.)
Then he bowed before his queen.
She rose her head in indignation,
Her pretty face shone before the Nation,
Yet, all she did was smile.

There sailed the good ship vanity,
Everything thing about her vain,
The Steward, the first mate,
Their captive primate,
And even the captain's name!

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