The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum