1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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