At The Dance
There was a dance at the Citadel; foolish, I went there,
The Pairakas were dressed to kill, and they'd all done their hair.
I was still cocky then, mark you: I thought I couldn't lose,
But good old Nefir Hazenuf supplied my dancing-shoes!
I was dead tired, feet swollen, my heart was fit to split --
Each Pairaka, grabbed me up and did the tango bit.
But I can still escape, I know, must gather up my will --
As good old Nefir Hazenuf presents them with his bill!
Michael Ferrier
At the Dance by Michael Ferrier