From deaths elusive grasp slipped I the laughing jester, the living lie fleet of foot and wit of mind from deaths elusive grasp slipped I not by skill but by fortunes wiles laughing, laughing, dance and smile in the midst of upheaval, joy! joy and calamity! a bedeviled parade of lost souls raucous, garbed and all colors waltz through life often unmerry part, but merry meet the king of hearts, and the queen o fortune, miser, with your lot perhaps the mischief in your eye or scrutinizing whos lucks run short, and whose abundance overflows with fickle hand, and deft the turning of the wheel of time and fortune. perhaps pass over me in my good luck and remember me in the bad that I may have my turn and every dog, their day.