1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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