1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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