1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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