1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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