1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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