Change of Taste

Awakened when the night descends
Delighted when the daylight ends
No reason to proceed in haste
He's relaxed, a vampire of taste

The villagers begin to quail
With local virgins prone to wail
They have the freshest, pulsing veins
And disregard attendant stains

He finds a beauty in her bed
A gentlewoman, born and bred
And she insists that he's her first
A virgin apt to quench his thirst

But he quivers and heaves two sighs
Places his face between her thighs
Now inclined to lick, and not to bite
And satisfy her through the night.