From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb