"At last we arrive!" the Pickler did cry
as he reached the top of the hill
and brushing a tear at the edge of his eye
he called for his men to be still

"At last we arrive! I'll say it once more,
for here is the place we have sought;
at last we arrive! I'm perfectly sure
that here's where the map has us brought."

The Pickler's job was once in a place
where he pickled his pickles all day
till a map fluttered down and flapped in his face,
and did take his poor breath all away.