He bent right down to pick up his valise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
He bent right down and well what did he seize
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
It's one of many horrid happenings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?