Ode To A Fly, by Captain Hammond
(Transcribed by Michele)

Here at the window
In Kingston I wait
I live to determine
That Horn-bloreís fate.

Though Commodore Pellewís voice
Full of doubt rings,
I will never be happy
Till Horn-blore swings.

But the trial awaits
And till I get my wish,
I needs must find something,
Some thing I can squish.

So what to my vision
Should just happen by?
ëTis the target Iíve dreamed of ñ
The poor hapless fly.

O dear fly of Kingston
Your life is so short
You knew not this morning
Youíd be such good sport.

Iíve nothing against you,
Dear fly, I avow,
But I canít have Horn-blore yet,
So youíll do for now.

So up rolls the Observer
And I take my aim,
Then, SWAT! on the window,
And itís splattered fly-brains.

O dear fly of Kingston,
The service youíve done
Is worth so much more
Than my retribution.

If only that Horn-blore
Would give me such ease
The dear flies of Kingston
Would surely be pleased.

But ëtil such time, if any,
That Horn-blore swings high
I take comfort in swatting you,
Dear Kingston fly.