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
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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