And thus the guerdon is bought or sold;
For the game is fair when the coins are spun,
And the “heads” show up in the aureate mould—
And where is the sin,
When the flats chip in,
In flying a “nob” for their good red gold?
Well, that is the lore that I wish to teach,
And such is the way that I want to show,
For Daphne lies on the sanded beach
’Way down by the ocean at Cottesloe,