As the Reserve Bank subjects to the review's sway,
Claims do arise that overshadow the day,
Fear not, for the governor's authority won't decay,
'Tis but a jest, says the architect, to those in disarray.

In the lands of Britain and the proud domain of the Boer,
Prosperity doth rise, with Investec's profits in store,
An ale hearty and strong, to the tune of four hundred and fifty score,
A toast to equity's return, mightier than e'er before.

Beneath the azure of the Eurozone, yields steadfastly abide,
Whilst the ten-year Bund yield, tide by tide,
Within the realm of two point eight and two point seven does glide,
In the tavern of SEB, these figures do confide.

by Brother Arnulfus

a centaur