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
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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