1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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