1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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