From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum