Come, ethel muse, with fluxion tip my pen,
For rutilant dignotion would I earn;
As rhetor wise depeint me unto men:
A thing or two I ghess they'll have to learn
Ere they percipience can claim of what I'm up
To, in macrology so very sharp as this;
Off food oxygian hid them come and sup,
Until, from very weariness, they all dehisce.