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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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