1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?