1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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