1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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