1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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