Some made oft' with William's skull-
Richard's feet in shallows, grave;
forced to lay a crooked neck-knave
by Will's deliberate quill and mull.

You'd think these men of infinite rest
would sate our time to jaw-bone
about cruel pranks and kingly jests
before alls' fate to join prone.

We raise a cup to toast our dead
though throw them in like baggage
and bide through age unfinished dreads
before ourselves are fed to maggots.

-cec