1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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