Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum