1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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