1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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