From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum