1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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