1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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