1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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