1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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