There's Nowt On Our Herm

THERE'S NOWT ON OUR HERM There's a naked heathen godlet that lodges in our hall; one leg of his is cocked up in the air. Does that finger pointing upwards, on which we hang the keys, import some noble thought, some lofty theme? If not, one asks, how should it be construed? Maybe it's just another case when all that can be said is. 'If it weren't for art, you'd call the thing damn rude.' Then he wears a warden's helmet, except that it's got wings and wings he's got a-flapping at the heel. Considering aeronautics, I doubt he'd pass the test, but there's a thought that never bothers Herm. He bears a funny wand round which snakes entwine their coils in a way that real snakes never seem to do. Don't ask me why they're there, or why he walks on air. He's a god, yes, he's a god, and there's an end.