1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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