1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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