1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum