Something completely different. An homage to Ogden Nash.
How roly, how poly, how utterly holy
Was Cedric O’Brylan, the mad monk of Ireland
His greaves were all rusted, his courage untrusted
Yet onward he flung, though pelted with dung
Through jeers of derision, he ne’er rued his decision
To dive for the cellar, and brandy most stellar.
Though insults be piled up, and townspeople riled up,
With each loving quaff, more scorn would slough off.
Far above, the crowds jostle, increasingly hostile,
Below there is peace, no worries increase.
Deals, they may dazzle, and crowds, they may frazzle,
But Cedric downstairs has banished his cares.