1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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