1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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