1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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