1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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