1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum