From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The genealogist with field and fess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum