1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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