1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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