1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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