[Graham King]

Humbert D. Umperdinck sat on a wall
Till its property-value increase;
From on high, very blithe, looking down on us all
Fat, round-cheeked, with a feeling of peace.

But a market-crash suddenly came, with a fall
In the value of bricks and of mortar;
‘I’m bereft! Woe! What worth has wall left?’ was his call:
‘Just a fraction of value it oughter!’

In despair and dismay his bank-balance was lost
To the taxman and creditors sundry;
As well (rising relatively), living’s cost
Was to Humbert’s ascendancy plundery.

He fell from Wall Street to the street, where he lies
Now: no magnate, but flea-magnet only;
No mansion but box of cardboard greets his eyes:
He is broken and hollow and lonely.