1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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