1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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