The Eagle Eyed Croupier - Parody Alfred Tennyson – The Eagle Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

He spins cooked wheel with crookèd hands,
close[d]) to true sum in sunny lands,
ring’d by a green baize world, he stands.

“Les jeux sonts faits…! ” he often calls,
wry, watches stakes increase till falls
Fate's rich ball, stalled, which naught recalls.

for previous version see below


The Eagle Eyed Croupier - Parody Alfred TENNYSON – The Eagle

He spins the wheel with crookèd hands,
close to the sum in sunny lands,
ring’d with a verdant world, he stands.

“Les jeux sonts faits…! ” he often calls,
he watches stakes mount up till falls
the ball of Fate which naught recalls.

17 December 1991