1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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