The cold transparent ham is on my fork It hardly rains--and hark the bell!--ding dingle Away! Three thousand feet at gravel work, Mocking a Vauxhall shower!--Married and single Crush--rush;--soaked silks with wet white satin mingle. Hengler! Madame! round whom all bright sparks lurk, Calls audibly on Mr. and Mrs. Pringle To study the sublime, &c.--(vide Burke), All noses are upturned! Whish-ish!--on high The rocket rushes, trails, just steals in sight-- Then droops and melts in bubbles of blue light-- And darkness reigns--then balls flare up and die-- Wheels whiz--smack crackers--serpents twist--and then Back to the cold transparent ham again!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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