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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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