Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
The best of all things to an end must come