The brother Swanks said, "Haw!"
These keen, resourceful, unremorseful,
Forceful Swanks said, "Haw!"

Then Splosh, the king, in a royal rage,
He smote his throne as he thundered, "Bosh!
In the whole wide land is there not one sage
With a cool, clear brain, who'll straight engage
To sweep the Swanks from Gosh?"
But the Lord High Stodge, from where he stood,
Cried, "Barley! . . . Guard your livelihood!"
And, quick as light, the teeming Swanks,
The scheming Swanks touched wood.
Sages, plainly, labour vainly
When the Swanks touch wood.

The stealthy cats that grace the mats
Before the doors of Gosh,
Smile wide with scorn each sunny morn;
And, as they take their wash,
A sly grimace o'erspreads each face
As the Swank struts forth to court.
But every Glug casts down his eyes,
And mutters, "Ain't 'is 'at a size!
For such a sight our gods we thank.
Sir Stodge, the Swank! The noble Swank!"
But the West wind tweaks his nose in sport;
And the Swank struts into court.

Then roared the King with a rage intense,