1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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