Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
That suede ferments is not at all well known
It's one of many horrid happenings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
And let you off from your opinions glum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum