On hearing Harry the Stockman is to be evicted
Had it been so, there would have been a legend
How the innkeeper who slept in his bed
That night, never slept more, his eyelids withered,
Gnawed by the living fat worm without end.
But it was not so: who pronounced the hotel full
And went back to his moll, his wine, his honey,
Flushed, copulated, belched, then gave cold money,
Noticed no star, knelt to no mucky Infant, dull