1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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