1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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