1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase