1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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