1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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