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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum