1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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