In the days of old when your lights were gold
  did you dream up this Mischief?

                      Of a new clear sky and a wondering why
  did you dream of this Mischief?

                      Did your dreams unfold in your "Realms of Gold"
  were there dreams of this Mischief?

                      Were you bit by fleas, did you bid them freeze
  as you reeled from their mischief?

                      Were you temperate, were you moderate
  as you trained for this Mischief?

                      When you had your muddle in a mursey puddle
  did you ever dream of this?
 

     Sure you dreamed of this and you dreamed of that
                       as you fought off frozen prose
             And you lived a while in a rhyming style
                   and you thought the sky light rose.

    Yes you earned your place in your pearls and lace
                        as you dealt out silent blows.
     Where you'd wiped up grime on the hedge of crime
                         there you stuck a byron pose.
 

                      There's an end to end from a friend befriend
  you have dreamed too long Mischief

                      Now your daze grows cold as your lights unhold
  you can only dream Mischief.
 

TERRY BOWDEN