1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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