1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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