1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase