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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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