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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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