From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
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
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb