1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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