Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
Soliloquies predict great things old chum