1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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