The moon rose in the swinging sky
And glittered at the fox
Who turned his pointy nose and sniffed.
A cat turned on the rocks.
The ocean turned upon the shore,
The boy turned on the gutter,
And musty men in dusty rags
Turned up to rage and mutter.
Oh in the apple of your eye,
Oh in the woods medieval
The woodman struck, the cages shook,
The king decried upheaval.