1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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