1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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