From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
That suede ferments is not at all well known
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum