There's the hero Galahad,
In a coat of mail clad,
Heading a brave squad,
Marching toward Bagdad,
To catch a low cad
And his wicked dad.
On the way what he had?
This valiant clever lad.
Why was he so glad,
Or sometimes so mad?
For he met a dryad,
And then a naiad.
This was not bad.
The story was not sad.