1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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