1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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