1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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