1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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