1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase