1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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