1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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