1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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