1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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