1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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