1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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