1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come