Vii

He’s half a wife, yon pecker bill; A book and likewise preacher. With any soul, in a game of skill, He’ll prove your over-reacher. The reason is, his brains are bent On doing things right single. You’d wish for them when pitching your tent At night in a whirly dingle! So, off we go, cries Roving Tim, And on we go, old raven! The wind according to its whim Is in and out of haven.