1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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