slander sandy bagels and a bag of bandy sandals

I am a polyhistorian, a historina of exuberance!
I measure degrees to the highest of teas to farm firm forms of peppermints,
Haberdash in dry paint and shoes owned by the saints, I feint and I pass out the alms tray,
With hammers and milk and curtains of silk I erect pianofortes,
Rob barons barren, barrel over, get rarin' and ready to duck in a pinch,
Dig though a barn with old cider and yarn and never do so much as flinch,
Escape any prism, using knives and nosism and massive missives from the masses,
With cutlasses forged in a forged cut-glass gorge , I'll forage and cut loose lost lasses.

Reminded.