1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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