1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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