1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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