1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
← OPEN dataBase