• It was a boat I remember,
    A lonely river in dim September.

    A gate is what I shall make,
    One the gods could never shake.

    A chimney is what I shall think,
    A flicker, a flinch, but never a wink.

    An eye is what I shall sell,
    To never see the stories I tell.

    A fortress is what I shall seek,
    A castle to hide this horrid freak.

    My legs are what I would lose,
    Had I ever to choose.

    A castle on the river, sailing free.
    A gate to guard it, a hidden key.
    One eye to see them, their terrible grins.
    A chimney to burn them, all of my sins.
    With no legs to hold me, I have fell.
    Tell me St Peter, is this Heaven or Hell?