1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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