Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum