1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase