1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?