1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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