1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum