The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The genealogist with field and fess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb