He bent right down to pick up his valise
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum