1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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