1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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