1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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