1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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