1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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