1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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