Page 277
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| King. 1 His sevencoloured's soot (Ochone! | ||
| Ochonal!) 2 and his imponence one heap lump- | ||
| Why so mucky | block (Mogoul!). And rivers burst out like | |
| pick bridges | weeming racesround joydrinks for the fewnral- | |
| span our Flumi- | ly, 3 where every feaster's a foster's other, fian- | |
| nian road. | nians all. 4 The wellingbreast, he willing giant, | |
| P.C. Helmut's in | the mountain mourning his duggedy dew. To | |
| the cottonwood, | obedient of civicity in urbanious at felicity | |
| listnin. | what'll yet meek Mike 5 our diputy mimber when | |
| The throne is an | he's head on poll and Peter's burgess and Miss | |
| umbrella strande | Mishy Mushy is tiptupt by Toft Taft. Boblesse | |
| and a sceptre's a | gobleege. For as Anna was at the beginning | |
| stick. | lives yet and will return after great deap sleap | |
| Jady jewel, our | rerising and a white night high with a cows of | |
| daktar deer. | Drommhiem as shower as there's a wet en- | |
| Gautamed bud- | clouded in Westwicklow or a little black rose a | |
| ders deossiphys- | truant in a thorntree. We drames our dreams | |
| ing our Theas. | tell Bappy returns. And Sein annews. We will | |
| not say it shall not be, this passing of order and | ||
| order's coming, but in the herbest country and | ||
| in the country around Blath as in that city self | ||
| of legionds they look for its being ever yet. So | ||
| shuttle the pipers done. 6 Eric aboy! 7 And it's | ||
| time that all paid tribute to this massive mor- | ||
| By lineal in pon- | tiality, the pink of punk perfection as photo- | |
| dus overthepoise. | graphy in mud. Some may seek to dodge the | |
| 1 I wonder if I put the old buzzerd one night to suckle in Millickmaam's | ||
| honey like they use to emballem some of the special popes with a book in his | ||
| hand and his mouth open. | ||
| 2 And a ripping rude rape in his lucreasious togery. | ||
| 3 Will ye nought would wet your weapons, warriors bard? | ||
| 4 Roe, Williams, Bewey, Greene, Gorham, McEndicoth and Vyler, the | ||
| lays of ancient homes. | ||
| 5 The stanidsglass effect, you could sugerly swear buttermilt would not | ||
| melt down his dripping ducks. | ||
| 6 Thickathigh and Thinathews with sant their dam. | ||
| 7 Oh, could we do with this waddled of ours like that redbanked profanian | ||
| with his bakset of yosters. | ||
