1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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