1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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