Alas for the verses Herr Lince
has stirred up among us! I wince!
There has been such a crop,
fellow mailers, please stop!
What can a man do to convince?
Not write three lines rhyming with mince!
Oh, I curse the long afternoons since
the thought of a limerick came
and so many attempted the game
and wound up in a jam -- of course, quince!