He bent right down to pick up his valise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum