He bent right down to pick up his valise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum