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
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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