1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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