He came from where he started
  And was going where he went.
He hadn't had a smell of food,
  Not even had a scent.
He never even muttered once
  Till he began to talk,
And when he left the kitchen door
  He took the garden walk.

He said: "There's no one with me,
  Because I am alone;
I might have scintillated once;
  My clothes have always shone.
I got here 'fore the other ones
  Because I started first:
The reason I look shabby is
  Because I'm dressed the worst."

Then I asked him where he came from--
  This was just before we parted,
And he muttered indistinctly,
  "Oh, I come from where I started!"