1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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