Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum