Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
That suede ferments is not at all well known
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum