1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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