1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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