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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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