"I said to the corpse: 'There is to be one
Who'll be ghastly as your cold clay;
Aye, bluer than you before I have done,
And with hair like glorified hay.'
Come, Maud, it is time that we had begun,
So hasten, my love, I pray,
Or we shan't be able to keep out the sun;
Don't bismuth yourself all day.
"I said to our surgeon: 'You often go