Rich banners waved behind ’em,
While on their backs, to mind ’em,
Postilion crickets chirruped them, all chirping loud and sweet.
“Ghost of the Cape I warn you of, for he is bottle-blue.
We split his Table Mountain. He gibbered and he flew.
The bulls straight showed disfeature
With gazing on the creature,
Stampeding in their harness when I gave the view-halloo.
“Though wrecked on Egypt’s obelisks, disaster I defied,
And harnessed Sphinx, the emperor’s gift, to tow an ark as wide