1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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