1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
← OPEN dataBase