He bent right down to pick up his valise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
The best of all things to an end must come