1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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