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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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