1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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