1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
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
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