1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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