1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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