1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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