1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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