1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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