1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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