1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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