1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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