From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze And empty cages show lif'e bird has flown And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave The fertile mother changeling drops like kings The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog On wheels the tourist follows his hostess Lobsters for sale must be our apologue The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum Soliloquies predict great things old chum