1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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