1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase