1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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