1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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