1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum