1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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