1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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