Here you will find the Poem Alfs Fourth Bit of poet Ezra Pound
Rudyard the dud yard, Rudyard the false measure, Told 'em that glory Ain't always a pleasure, But said it wuz glorious nevertheless To lick the boots of the bloke That makes the worst mess. Keep up the grand system Don't tell what you know, Your grandad got the rough edge. Ain't it always been so ? Your own ma' warn't no better Than the Duchess of Kaugh. My cousin's named Baldwin An' 'e looks like a tofft You 'ark to the sargent, And don't read no books; Go to God like a sojer; What counts is the looks.
