1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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