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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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