Like an old turtle, with his fat legs across;
It will make him sore behind if he has a long ride,
He has lost the key, or he would creep inside.
Then the sword-bearer he will make a start,
He sits like a king in an old donkey cart;
He sold his hairy cap to make him a muff,
And he has broke his sword on the old donkey’s duff.
The great City Marshall, he is not much use,
He is flying about like a one-legged goose;
He is here and he’s there, and he’s off in a crack,