1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum