Lichen, the bees and a fortress of weeds in a small town venture Only the stale and a quart of an ale and a cold intention Over the lawn and the rail And only to gather the mail He likened to me but I wondered if he were to see Liken the bees and the matters that please to a small back bencher Caught with the maid with her hair in a braid not the one he mentioned Lichen and bees in the walls and the fevers of small town ventures Sparrows and freight at a quarter to eight and a man who mentioned Over the lawn and the rail And only to gather the mail He likened to me but I wonder if he were to see