From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
The understanding critic firstly sees
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum