1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come