1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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