1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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