1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
← OPEN dataBase