Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Bard I adore your endless monologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum