T’is not any man’s wish to commit error,
For out of it borne terror and horror.
Every man’s wish is to be a conqueror.
To his seeds, fine-reflectors like the mirror.
To every child, every Dad is a juror.
Sworn to an oath of allegiance as a carer.
T’is every man’s wish to be a conjuror,
Not a staged sorcerer –
But one to lit smile on your face-make you a great scorer.