The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The genealogist with field and fess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum