1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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