From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
He bent right down and well what did he seize
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum