1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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