He bent right down to pick up his valise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The understanding critic firstly sees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
It's one of many horrid happenings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The best of all things to an end must come