The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum