1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come