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
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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