1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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