1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase