1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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