1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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