1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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