1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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