1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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