1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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