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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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