1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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