Just to keep his biceps in.
Nightly several score of lions
Yielded up their worthless lives;
And there was a cry in Mickbos,
For the King had lost his wives.
Wrathful was the sable monarch
At their unexpected hops;
For the brute had cook'd the gruel
Of the Nymphs who cook'd the chops!
Thro' this land of death and danger,