1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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