1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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