From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum