1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
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
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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