1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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