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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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