1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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