1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
← OPEN dataBase