1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum