1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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