He bent right down to pick up his valise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
And let you off from your opinions glum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?