1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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