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
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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