1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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