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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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