[RCL]

Not 138 but Johnson 328; Franklin 359

A Bard came down the Walk—
He did not know I heard—
He sang without the briefest pause
Just like a moonstruck bird.

And then he sipped a brew
That gave his sounds some sass,
And sauntered to a gathering group
Hankering for a Lass.

He blinked his restless eyes
And tried to find the best—
Eyes like raging rings of fire
That surveyed all the rest

And seemed to be Amused.
I asked how he was paid.
With that he smiled, invoked his Muse—
Who always got him laid.

Museless,
Ralph