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
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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