It refused to see the goodness of the digger o’er and o’er,
Really flew from his advances, as esteeming him a bore,
And desiring such no more.
Spare my muse a dire narration, take the simple intimation
That by fell decapitation, Cocky weltered in his gore.
His shrill clarion brought to silence by a digger’s ruthless violence,
Never more at dawn of morning, or at close of day might pour
Its clear notes upon the air; might no matin solo pour;
Silenced quite for evermore.
Quite soon a mouth-moistening aroma, such as a famous cook’s diploma