1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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