As though the world's end were to dread,
Even Graywack, that decent old fellow,
In terror stood up on his head.
Also Stonecoal and Limestone and Trias
Fast vanished, internally mined.
Loud wailed in the Jura, the Lias,
That the wild fire had scorched him behind.
And Limestone, the marl-plot of chalkers,
Said later, in deep earnest chimes,
'Was there no one, to stop, 'mong you talkers,