1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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