1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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