1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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