The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The genealogist with field and fess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum