So, resting, I'll trim up my crevice a bit.'
St Cuthman was looking prodigiously sly,
He knew that the hours were slipping by.
'Another attack!
I've cramp at my back!
I've needles and pins
From my hair to my shins!
I tremble and quail
From my horns to my tail!
I will not be vanquished, I'll work, I say,