From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum