1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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