He bent right down to pick up his valise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
It's one of many horrid happenings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum