1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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