1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum