1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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