From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
The best of all things to an end must come