still held command,
And wrote new rules in a fair round hand,
        And the Glugs saw no escape;
Where tape entwined all Gluggish things,
   And the Swank, the Swank, the grievous Swank,
        The devious Swank pulled strings--
The perspicacious, contumacious
        Swank held all the strings.

The blooms that grow, and, in a row,
   Peep o'er each garden fence,
They nod and smile to note his style
   Of ponderous pretence;
Each roving bee has fits of glee
   When the Swank goes by that way.
But every Glug, he makes his bow,
And says, "Just watch him!  Watch him now!
   He must have thousands in the bank!
   The Swank!  The Swank! The holy Swank!"
But the wild winds snatch his kerchief out,
        And buffet him about.

VIII. THE SEER