1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum