He bent right down to pick up his valise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
That suede ferments is not at all well known
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
And let you off from your opinions glum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum