When one with t'other straightaway agrees
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
The Turks said just take anything you please
And empty cages show lif'e bird has flown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
In purest cradles tha's how they behave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
Shallots and sharks' fins face the smould'ring log
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum