1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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