1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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