1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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