From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
And let you off from your opinions glum
The best of all things to an end must come