1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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