1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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