1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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