1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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