1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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