When one with t'other straightaway agrees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum