But you'll please understand I'm a very "cool hand;" there's abundance of "humour" about me,
And though for a jiffy I seem at a loss, don't you come for to go for to doubt me.
'Tis most complicated, this Miz-Maze! I've stated the clue I've let slip for a moment,
And LABBY, no doubt, and his henchmen, will shout and indulge in invidious comment:
The Times, too, may gird, and declare 'tis absurd not to know one's own Labyrinth better.
The Times is my friend, but a trifle too fond of the goad and the scourge and the fetter;
You really can't rule the whole civilised world with the aid of the whip and the closure;
Though I should enjoy—but no matter, my boy, let us try to maintain our composure!
When shall we get out? That's a matter of doubt, cross-hedges my pathway still chequer,
The clue I've let slip, but you just take my tip; we'll get clear—if you keep up your pecker!