Chris O'Carroll has pointed out to me possibole ambiguity in Lucy';s recipe I think shemeans a verse of this type.
How do you feel when you drink a glass of whisky? Frisky.
How do you feel when you drink a glass of rum? Dumb.
How do you feel when you drink a glass of brandy? Randy.
How d you feel when you drink a glass of ale? Pale.
Techically this is known as an echo verse. There is an example by George Herbert on the net, though Parson George gives the echo words separate lines of their own.
Of course ingenuity could go further. Indeed I have done so. I thought up this lubricious little verse while swimming up and down with the snow falling outside. I hope it doesn't bring a blush to Lucy's maiden cheek. Or indeed to any of yours.
My Toy Boy
I’ve a luscious little toy boy,
Though a beautifully bad lad,
He’s a harbinger-of-joy boy
And a makes-his-daddy-glad lad.
He’s as slender as a slim jim,
And a seriously lewd dude.
I could hymn his every trim limb.
You should see him in the rude nude.
Yes I love him in the tight night,
And I love him in the gay day.
He’s my permanently bright light.
Have you anything to say, pray?
I composed this in a terse verse.
It’s a short song, not a long song.
You could write a lot of worse verse.
It’s the right song, not the wrong song.
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