1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum