1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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