Quintessence

Sir Muscle speaks, and nations bend the ear:
“Hark ye these Notes⁠—our wit quintuple hear;
Five able-bodied editors combine
Their strength prodigious in each laboured line!”

O wondrous vintner! hopeless seemed the task
To bung these drainings in a single cask;
The riddle’s read⁠—five leathern skins contain
The working juice, and scarcely feel the strain.

Saviours of Rome! will wonders never cease?
A ballad cackled by five tuneful geese!
Upon one Rocinante five stout knights
Ride fiercely into visionary fights!

A cap and bells five sturdy fools adorn,
Five porkers battle for a grain of corn,
Five donkeys squeeze into a narrow stall,
Five tumble-bugs propel a single ball!