1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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