1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come