There lived a dog named Boundersoy, he was a raconteur,
A cad, a sleaze, a scallywag, a cheater and a boor,
He fouled his way through every game on the playing fields of Eaton,
And stole the rights to several books including Mrs Beeton.
One day he met a grisly end and was run down by a tractor,
And thrown upon the ragged rocks, by Jolyon, his factor,
The landlord said it’s time to take some action on this dog,
And left him out to die there in the wind and cold and fog.
And Boundersoy, he cried out loud, in accents strong and clear,
I am a changed and sorry dog, please get me out of here,
And the sun it shone, the wind it calmed, and everything was right,
And Boundersoy did go to sleep in his own bed that night.