1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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