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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
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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