1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
← OPEN dataBase