For I have swept along To foam ashriek with gulls, and rowed behind Brown oarsmen swinging to an ocean song

To the subjective mind of the combat crunchie and cannon cocker, executing with his legs, sweat, and often his life, the grand designs …

A hacky cough. A hacky laugh. A hacky breath. A hacky howl.

They had run through all punishments, and just 'scaped the fork