Oh Onion, whence doth thou cometh
From divine sourceth under the sunneth?
Thy layers are a symbol of what zz speaketh
But because of thee, sorrowfully, she reeketh.
But soft! Alas, yonder God doth proclaim!
Beholdest thee a winner of this Onion game?
Tis best methinks whence the onion is minced
Dost thou not prefer this to yawning Quinced?
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