1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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