Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of ruined rhyme.
To the hum of speculation that annually swells
From the Hells, Hells, Hells—
From the Hunters and the Punters of the Hells.
Hear the merry laughing Hells,
Baden Hells!
Ringing out their call to happiness like wedding bells;
Blinding eyes with lust of gain,
Dead’ning hearts to others’ pain,