Stand still, with a nip like crocodile's grip
On one's caudal appendage? Ah, just so!
I know 'tis a task that seems too much to ask.
I'm reasonable,—or I trust so.
But there is the Lobster, it's holding on fast.
And—hang it! this state of affairs cannot last!
How came it about? That's a matter of doubt,
Which there isn't much use in discussing,
To part them's my aim; I would manage that same
Without either fighting or fussing.