1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase