This is the tale of Four Stout Men
Who mounted their stark steeds there and then
And rode to Heilly o’er moor & fen,
Clanrobert, Cuchulain and Curgenven
(Not to mention Gaukrodger)–remarkable men.
And the number of things they didn’t discuss
From Aristotle’s De Partibus
To Marie Corelli and even wuss
Dalhousie, Defoe and Decius Mus
(Not omitting S.M. Grubb) astonishes us.
They feasted like men of Homeric mould
And drank as much as their guts would hold
And sang good songs like the men of old,
Bunyan and Barnum and Charles the Bold
(Not forgetting Barabbas) those hearts of gold.
Then into the saddles the four did vault.
And their spirits soared like the E in alt.
If their horses bolted it wasn’t their fault,
Genghis, and Grettir and Edwin Gault
(And of course John Silver, the excellent salt.)
And as they carolled a man of sin
Exploded a horrible culverin
But in spite of the state those four were in,
Disraeli and Daniel and Gunga Din
(Together with Micawber) survived the din.