1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come