1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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