He bent right down to pick up his valise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
That suede ferments is not at all well known
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The genealogist with field and fess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum