1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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