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
They both are right not untamed mutterings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum