Now learned men who use the pen

[Tanzoria]

have wrote your praises high
The sweet Poitín from Ireland green,
distilled from weeds and rye

[Jabberwocky]

You just keep your weeds out of my rye.

[Donnee]

How did this rye get in my Weed?

[Jabberwocky]

Rye in the eye?
Or a pie in the sky?

[Donnee]

"Neither,'tis but a stye in my eye, whilst mine weeds pierce the sky."

[Jabberwocky]

Worse, my quill leaks.

[Donnee]

These stone tablets keep breaking my wooden chisels.