He bent right down to pick up his valise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The Turks said just take anything you please
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum