1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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