1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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