1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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