Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The Turks said just take anything you please
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?