1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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