1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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