He bent right down to pick up his valise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
It's one of many horrid happenings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum