1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase