The twain that, in twining, before in the twine,
As twines were intwisted; he now doth untwine:
’Twixt the twain inter-twisting a twine more between
He, twirling his twister, makes a twist of the twine.
We’re all in the dumps,
For diamonds are trumps;
The kittens are gone to St. Paul’s!
The babies are bit,
The moon’s in a fit,
And the houses are built without walls.