1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum