1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
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
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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