1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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