1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum