1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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