1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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