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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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