1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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