When one with t'other straightaway agrees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
And let you off from your opinions glum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum