Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum