Me heart strings are riven! I’ve struggled and striven To pen a neat melody, Nicely rhymed; But the rhyming is awful, The metre’s unlawful; The soft and the heavy are Badly timed. I’m in a quan-dary; Me large diction-ary Of rhymes, it refuses to Ease my state. The Muses they shun me; It’s dawnin’ upon me I’m ridin’ old Pegasus Overweight. Despite how I whip, it Refuses to trip it, But flounders and falters and Breaks its stride. Oh, Muse! Am I clever? Pray tell me if ever This poor, patient poet will Learn to ride. I’m bound to confess it: I’m stiffened, and — yes, it Is awful to know Pega — Sus will trot When I want him to canter. Pray, pass the decanter. (“Decanter” and “canter l” Now, Ain’t that rot?) Whatever I do me Gross flesh will hang to me. I’ve trained and I’ve dieted Past belief. Still I roll an’ I pitch, an’ Me side’s got a stitch, an’ Oh, Muses! I’m sufferin’! Grant relief. I’ve lived for a week on “Pale moons” without squeakin’, Existed for months on a “Sunset glow.” It’s turnin’ me brain, an’ I’m full up of trainin’. I’m goin’ to stop. Wo, then! Pegasus. Wo ! And now, just a few words. Hi! Call up the stewards! Oh, rub me out, gentlemen — Off the slate. Don’t tarry to try me — Just disqualify me — I’m ridin’ old Pegasus Overweight.