MY FOE OUTSTRETCH'D BENEATH THE TREE

My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree/ a murder done so daintily/ But Doctor Davie, Cambridge don/ is on the scene to carry on/ pursue each clue arcane, obscure/ a tampered tape--an Opera lure/ Oh so precise our Doctor D./ he explicates complicity/ The villains well, you'd never guess/ Non-clergymen in clerics dress/ and though we rhyme so Baddeley/ as any fool can plainly see/ still if you know iambic pen/ you'll guess this meter's not for men.