1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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