The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
He bent right down and well what did he seize
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum