1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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