1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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