1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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