THEY intend to send a wire
To the moon;
And they'll set the Thames on fire
⁠Very soon;
Then they learn to make silk purses
⁠With their rigs
From the ears of Lady Circe's
⁠Piggy-wigs.
And weazels at their slumbers
⁠They'll trepan;
To get sunbeams from cucumbers
⁠They've a plan.
They've a firmly rooted notion
They can cross the Polar Ocean,
And they'll find Perpetual Motion
⁠If they can!