1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase