A Study In The 'Nood'

He was bare we dont want to be rude     (His condition was owing to drink)     They say his condition was nood,     Which amounts to the same thing, we think     (We mean his condition, we think,     Twas a naked condition, or nood,     Which amounts to the same thing, we think)     Uncovered he lay on the grass     That shrivelled and shrunk; and he stayed     Three hot summer days, while the glass     Was one hundred and ten in the shade.     (We nearly remarked that he laid,     But that was bad grammar we thought     It does sound bucolic, we think     It smacks of the barnyard     Of farming of pullets in short.)     Unheeded he lay on the dirt;     Beside him a part of his dress,     A tattered and threadbare old shirt     Was raised as a flag of distress.     (On a stick, like a flag of distress     Reversed we mean that the tail-end was up     half-mast on a stick an evident flag of distress.)     Perhaps in his dreams he persood     Bright visions of heavnly bliss;     And artists who study the nood     Never saw such a study as this.     The luggage went by and the guard     Looked out and his eyes fell on Grice     We fancy he looked at him hard,     We think that he looked at him twice.     They say (if the telegrams true)     When he woke up he wondered (good Lord!)     Why the engine-man didnt heave to     Why the train didnt take him aboard.     And now, by the case of poor Grice,     We think that a daily express     Should travel with sunshades and ice,     And a lookout for flags of distress.