And if you want a dinner, I'll give you all a tip,
There's just a fleeting moment, I've always let it slip,—
The minute hand records it, upon the castle clock,
And if you're up that moment, you have no need to knock,
Walk in, the door is open, and make "a hearty male,"
And thank that crafty polis, and the Princess Granauille.
And now about the baby, his voyaging began,
Before he'd had his teething, and still he's not a man,