From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
His toga rumpled high above his knees
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum