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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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