1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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