1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum