1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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