1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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