1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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