1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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