1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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