1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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