From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The understanding critic firstly sees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum