Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad, / If Bacchus merry fruit they did inuent ….

at the pointy end of the plane

[…] has thrown away dozens of pairs of underwear throughout his life, having to freeball the rest of the day.

Where old Nile is everflowing, / And the Sphynx with heavy lids / Sits by ruins grim and sombre — / Onward to the Pyramids. […] Far in Morning Land I wandered / Where the summers never cease, / And Romance's golden waters / Ever run and murmur peace.