1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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