1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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