1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
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
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