1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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