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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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