1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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