1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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