1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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