Remorsefully he died, his bedclothes biting.
But suddenly I saw the bright green cover
Of a thin pretty book right down below;
I snatched it up and turned the pages over,
To find it full of poetry, and so
Put it down my neck with quick hands like a lover
And turned to watch if the old man saw it go.
The book was full of funny muddling mazes
Each rounded off into a lovely song,
And most extraordinary and monstrous phrases