1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
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
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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