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
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum