1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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