Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?