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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?