He bent right down to pick up his valise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
It's one of many horrid happenings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum