1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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