1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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