1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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