Oh, you Raoul bashers, who know only of
Patrick Wilson's face on the movie screen,
who show the Vicomte abusing his love,
write him a drunkard who cheats on Christine --
Yes, Wilson may have worn a ponytail,
and I'd rather faint into Erik's arms,
but in Leroux's book, you will never nail
Raoul with sinister means behind his charms.
He may grate upon your nerves -- he does mine --
but he is an upstanding citizen
who steers clear of unnecessary wine.
I implore you, writers: don't imprison
a character than you a century older
as a fop with a chip on his shoulder.