1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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