1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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