1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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