One shoved in to the front, and then there were eight.
Eight little measures promising us heaven,
One met a Witler host, and then there were seven.
Seven little measures crossing the Lords' Styx,
One of 'em tumbled in, and then there were six.
Six little measures a-trying to look alive,
One was talked clean off his head, and then there were five.
Five little measures on the Session's lea shore,
One saw Gog and Magog there, and then there were four.
Four little measures as weak as weak could be,