1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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