1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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