1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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