From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb