1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come