1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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