1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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