1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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