1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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