1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum