1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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