He bent right down to pick up his valise
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The best of all things to an end must come