1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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