1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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