'Ere night fall, and with porpish smiles
Did grindigs meable in the bleem;
Quite hortish seemed the mammiles,
And the snimples subgleem.

"Alas, behold the Boobgorebush!
The smirk that grates, the sigh so snide!
And towards the Lieberchen don't rush
For quarful tibes may hide!"

The hrumphile throng rose to its feet Assembled for a fewtish quest
And pledged upon the jambled reet
"Snupish glory 'ere rest!"

If one than many earnest chad
Did fall beneath their jawkish ire.
The tally, near-complete, was had
Not 'ere the horde retire.

For days and weeks towards sightless end
The Boobgorebush unchecked lived on.
Retreading chads, and counsels send.
The day as yet un-won.

"The Boobgorebush thou could not slay?
It's vampty voice you could not quell?
Oh cursed day! Balooh! Ballay!
Await we must in Hell!"

'Ere night fall, and with porpish smiles
Did grindigs meable in the bleem;
Quite hortish seemed the mammiles,
And the snimples subgleem.