1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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