1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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