1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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