Wriggling wryly, I wistfully fretted
The chamberlain shook and listfully took
Dryly my gin and at once he wetted
His throat. Sinfully fat, sat by the brook
Cool water flowed and sullenly frolicked
Until wearily wept he spoke his woes
Of termites in pours, unearthly polyps
And rashes and gashes which came in droves
Half-trousered he gave me ungodly frights
Beggin’d I pardon his burdenous louse
Please, he said, tell me true and tell it right
Should that lump I feel be kept from my spouse?
I say it to you, as I said it then,
Don’t dock your trousers when seeking to swim.
