When one with t'other straightaway agrees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum