1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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