1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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