1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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