1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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