Page:The heptalogia, or, The seven against sense - a cap with seven bells (IA heptalogiaorseve00swin).pdf/41

IV.
UP THE SPOUT.

I.

Hi! Just you drop that! Stop, I say!

Shirk work, think slink off, twist friend's wrist?
Where that spined sand's lined band's the bay—
Lined blind with true sea's blue, as due—
Promising—not to pay?

II.

For the sea's debt leaves wet the sand;

Burst worst fate's weights in one burst gun?