He bent right down to pick up his valise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum