Sink! High! Sink! Highohigh! Sinkasink! Waves. The gangstairs strain and anger’s up As Hoisty rares the can and cup To speed the bogre’s barque away O’er wather parted from the fiery goodmother Miss Fortune (who the lost time we were his for me down for his strict privatear which 327 there’s no plagues like rome. It gives furi- ously to think. Is rich