1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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