1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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