Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life and great repose, Where, twice a day...

The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world's course will not fail;
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his wife up in a box,
When she said, "Let me out" he exclaimed, 
"Without doubt,
You will pass all your life in that box"

There was an old man who screamed out
Whenever they knocked him about;
So they took off his boots, and fed him with fruits,
And continued to knock him about.