From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum