1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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