1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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