1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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